A Modern Gang
by aelitahoppercl
Summary: Sherlock and John are the centre of a new TV show in which people will finally understand how their lives look like for real.
1. Epilogue - Part 1

"Very well, very well… Hum… Where should I start? This is really hard. I could use some help."

"Not happening."

"Yeah, I sort of… expected that. But, who are you again?"

"Ok team, take five!"

The camera operator placed the camera on the floor and walked to the kitchen, as many other members of his team. They made some tea and they sat on the chairs scattered around the division. As the director explained, once again, to John what was happening in 221B, Sherlock got off his room, took one of the mugs with tea that was on the kitchen table and flopped on the couch. Everybody stopped and stared at him.

"Sherlock… What are you doing?"

"Do you know John, we are living together for almost 3 years, and you still don't recognize when I'm sulking? Shame on you."

"You know what I mean! There are people in here and, seriously, just look at yourself! Your only wearing a blanket!"

"You're."

"What?"

"It's not 'your'. It is 'you're'. Basic English, John. Basic English. Fetch me my phone."

"It's right next to you, Sherlock. Just get it yourself."

"Not feeling like it. Give it to me now."

John got up from his chair and picked the phone. After giving the mobile to Sherlock, he raised an eyebrow as he saw the number which Sherlock was typing.

"You are calling Mycroft. Your brother. Mycroft Holmes, the utter dickhead of this world besides you. Why would you that?"

"Rhetorical question, what do you think of fratricide?"

"Hum… Not ni-"

"RHETORICAL QUESTION!"

"Ok, ok, calm down!"

John turned around and saw that the whole TV team has already left the house. Asking himself when they left, he went taking a shower. He all of his clothes and got in the shower. He left the warm water run through his body and he began to wash his hair. As he did it, he heard huge shouts from the other room and many words that he didn't consider proper for the beginning of the day. He closed the water, combed his hair, and got ready to work. That day was going to be a big day…

"Mrs. Hudson, I'm home!"

When John didn't receive a response, he got worried. Mrs. Hudson always appeared at the door saying 'hello, dear' to her boys. John checked if had his gun. Nope. 'Bloody Sherlock and his bloody walls' he thought. He started to go upstairs and heard a laugh. Wondering what the hell was going on, John opened the door to the flat and saw Mrs. Hudson giggling at the cameras which were on the flat earlier that morning.

"Oh! Hello, John dear, take a sit." Mrs. Hudson said happily as she saw one of her boys standing at the door. "I was chatting with this gentleman here. I believe you've met him already. His name is Steven Moffat, and he's thinking of making a TV show about your daily routine with Sherlock. Wouldn't it be so much funny?"

A huff was heard from the other side of the living room. Sherlock, with his violin under his chin, started to play a melody. This one was not so carefully played by his composer. 'Bad mood, hein Sherlock?'

"Tell me, are you interested in making a TV show where people can really understand what's like in your lives? I know that tabloids are not funny at all, nor realistic, so I would like to know if you allowed my team to film you during a short period of time, 24 hours per day (there are, of course, privacy moments whenever any of you wants to) and… What was I going to say?

"Whoa, whoa! A little slower, perhaps… If I got it right, which I believe I did… You mean that Sherlock and I and whoever is with us, will soon begin to be followed everywhere, by cameras, in order to make people know what the truth is besides what is written on the newspapers?"

Ignoring Sherlock's comment of how even Anderson would understand what Moffat said, John heard the entire explanation, the agenda, the privacy terms and started to get really excited with the show.

"…now you just have to tell all your acquaintances what's going to happen in the next few days and we're ready to start!" Moffat exclaimed while his team packed everything to leave.

"Hold on a moment! You said we are going to start filming tomorrow! How are we supposed to tell everyone about the project in less than five hours?!"

"I trust you John."

"Oh, he really does…"

"Just look who finally talked to someone!"

"I was focused in other staff."

"Bet you were! 'Cause you left me here, dealing with all of this…-"

"Ignore it. They're having a little domestic. It happens all the time. Well, have a nice evening!" Mrs. Hudson said as she followed her guests to outside and closed the door and locked it, listening to an exclamation outside.

"Wait, you said it happens all the time?!"


	2. Epilogue - Part 2

**09:45 AM**

"Very well, very well… Hum… Where should I start? This is really hard. I could use some help."

"Not happening."

"Yeah, I sort of… expected that. But, who are you again?"

"Ok team, take five!"

The camera operator placed the camera on the floor and walked to the kitchen, as many other members of his team. They made some tea and they sat on the chairs scattered around the division. As the director explained, once again, to John what was happening in 221B, Sherlock got off his room, took one of the mugs with tea that was on the kitchen table and flopped on the couch. Everybody stopped and stared at him.

"Sherlock… What are you doing?"

"Do you know John, we are living together for almost 3 years, and you still don't recognize when I'm sulking? Shame on you."

"You know what I mean! There are people in here and, seriously, just look at yourself! Your only wearing a blanket!"

"You're."

"What?"

"It's not 'your'. It is 'you're'. Basic English, John. Basic English. Fetch me my phone."

"It's right next to you, Sherlock. Just get it yourself."

"Not feeling like it. Give it to me now."

John got up from his chair and picked the phone. After giving the mobile to Sherlock, he raised an eyebrow as he saw the number which Sherlock was typing.

"You are calling Mycroft. Your brother. Mycroft Holmes, the utter dickhead of this world besides you. Why would you that?"

"Rhetorical question, what do you think of fratricide?"

"Hum… Not ni-"

"RHETORICAL QUESTION!"

"Ok, ok, calm down!"

John turned around and saw that the whole TV team has already left the house. Asking himself when they left, he went taking a shower. He all of his clothes and got in the shower. He left the warm water run through his body and he began to wash his hair. As he did it, he heard huge shouts from the other room and many words that he didn't consider proper for the beginning of the day. He closed the water, combed his hair, and got ready to work. That day was going to be a big day…

"Mrs. Hudson, I'm home!"

When John didn't receive a response, he got worried. Mrs. Hudson always appeared at the door saying 'hello, dear' to her boys. John checked if had his gun. Nope. 'Bloody Sherlock and his bloody walls' he thought. He started to go upstairs and heard a laugh. Wondering what the hell was going on, John opened the door to the flat and saw Mrs. Hudson giggling at the cameras which were on the flat earlier that morning.

"Oh! Hello, John dear, take a sit." Mrs. Hudson said happily as she saw one of her boys standing at the door. "I was chatting with this gentleman here. I believe you've met him already. His name is Steven Moffat, and he's thinking of making a TV show about your daily routine with Sherlock. Wouldn't it be so much funny?"

A huff was heard from the other side of the living room. Sherlock, with his violin under his chin, started to play a melody. This one was not so carefully played by his composer. 'Bad mood, hein Sherlock?'

"Tell me, are you interested in making a TV show where people can really understand what's like in your lives? I know that tabloids are not funny at all, nor realistic, so I would like to know if you allowed my team to film you during a short period of time, 24 hours per day (there are, of course, privacy moments whenever any of you wants to) and… What was I going to say?

"Whoa, whoa! A little slower, perhaps… If I got it right, which I believe I did… You mean that Sherlock and I and whoever is with us, will soon begin to be followed everywhere, by cameras, in order to make people know what the truth is besides what is written on the newspapers?"

Ignoring Sherlock's comment of how even Anderson would understand what Moffat said, John heard the entire explanation, the agenda, the privacy terms and started to get really excited with the show.

"…now you just have to tell all your acquaintances what's going to happen in the next few days and we're ready to start!" Moffat exclaimed while his team packed everything to leave.

"Hold on a moment! You said we are going to start filming tomorrow! How are we supposed to tell everyone about the project in less than five hours?!"

"I trust you John."

"Oh, he really does…"

"Just look who finally talked to someone!"

"I was focused in other staff."

"Bet you were! 'Cause you left me here, dealing with all of this…-"

"Ignore it. They're having a little domestic. It happens all the time. Well, have a nice evening!" Mrs. Hudson said as she followed her guests to outside and closed the door and locked it, listening to an exclamation outside.

"Wait, you said it happens all the time?!"


	3. I Fooled Sherlock Holmes - Part 1

**10:30 PM**

"_Today's the first day. Yeah! Here we are. Me, talking to a camera, and you, watching me talking about my life with Sherlock Holmes. It's funny, just to think that only a few months ago, Sherlock was 'dead' and almost everyone believed he was a fraud."_

"_How did you feel about it?"_

"…"

"_John?"_

"_It was the most awful thing that happened on my life. And I invaded Afghanistan."_

"_Does it still make you feel sad?"_

"_Every single time I think about it. But you are not here to film me saying sad things, are you? You wanna know about the adventures of the daily routine of the amazing Sherlock Holmes. Well, today was an exhausting day…"_

As usual, I got up and went making some breakfast. As usual, I made some tea, toasts, eggs and sausages. As usual, I said good morning to Mrs. Hudson, invited her to have some tea with Sherlock and me, she declined and gave me the newspaper of the day. As usual, I went upstairs, poured tea in two mugs, put the food in two plates and stared at the beautiful meal I had in front of me. And there I noticed. No violin, no explosions, no 'boring', no 'fat Mycroft', no 'incompetent Scotland Yard', no 'when-is-Lestrade-phoning-with-a-new-case'… Nothing. Nothing at all! I got worried, of course. When you live with Sherlock Holmes you learn one thing: noise – very good, everything's fine; quietness – not good, prepare to die.

I called out his name and I met no response. I did it again. Zero. So, I had to go check on him in his bedroom. I knocked at the door.

"Sherlock? Are you ok? Do you need any help? Listen, I'm coming in. I just want to check on you. I am coming in peace…"

You don't know but, one day, Sherlock was locked in his room, sulking, because he had no case for two days. During that time, he didn't eat. I am doctor. No one should skip meals like that. I did it once. A long time ago. The next day, I became monstrous. I promised myself I wouldn't do it ever again. Continuing what I was saying, Sherlock was in his bedroom and I was outside with some food for him. I opened the door with a spare key and got in. It was dark, absolutely no light and I tried to switch on the light. As did that, I heard a huge 'hisssssss', like if someone was melting just because of the sudden light. Then, before I had the chance of giving the food, I plopped down on the floor, because that bastard threw, AT ME, a stapler. I never got in his room again. Too many bad memories.

I took a napkin of the tray with food and shook at the entrance of the room, so that he could see I was coming in, in other words, not to throw at me anything that would make me have a need for stitches. But then, I understood that I never saw Sherlock that way.

"_What did you see, John? I am afraid to ask this, but is Sherlock back on… You know… We are wondering where he is right now, since he's not here with us."_

"_No, no, nothing like that. He didn't relapsed, if you're suspecting of such thing. As long it depends on me, he'll never go back those dark times. He won't."_

"_So, what happened then?"_

"_I was going to say, if you didn't stop to make a stupid assumption, simply because he isn't here! Sherlock Holmes is a great man. And besides what many people out there may think of him, he's not a fake. But that's the purpose of all of this, isn't it? To make people believe and know who Sherlock is. His actual himself. _

"_I suppose…"_

"_Then, let me finish the summary of the day."_

As I was saying, I never saw Sherlock like that. There he was, curled up on his bed, moaning in pain and sweat all over his face.My heart sunk as I saw the invincible man, my best friend, so fragile, so not-Sherlock.

"Hei buddy. How are you feeling?"

"Miserable."

He didn't say that. In matter fact, he did not say a single word, but when he looked at me in the eyes, I felt no need to asking him again that question.

"Can you walk?"

A nod.

"Can you talk?"

He did not answer. It was beginning to be repetitive.

"Listen, you need to get up. I'll help you. After that, I'll head you to the living room where you'll sit down on the couch and have some food…"

He shook his head very quickly. For Christ's sake…

"You'll have some food" I repeated "and when you're done, I'll take you're temperature."

"_Shouldn't you take his temperature first and only then he started to eat?"_

"_Are you the doctor?"_

"_No, but-"_

"_Then shut up! I know my priorities."_

I made him sit on the couch, he did everything I told him to (he was really sick, to do it all, complaining just once) and he fell asleep very fast. I can tell you now, from all I observed today, Sherlock is really sick. His temperature stood around 103,46 degrees. I tried my best to make him feel better without going to a hospital. That stubborn hates it. Two years ago, he broke his wrist. I told him to go to a hospital, to make sure that it wouldn't get worse. He said no.

"_And you did what he said?"_

"_Duh! Of course! He's Sherlock Holmes._ _Back where we were…"_

I took the day off and gave the best of me to help him through his illness. I was hoping that his behaviour would be the most difficult thing to handle, but he was so weak that it gave no problem. The worse was making him eat… During lunch time, I made some turkey breast with rice. I gave the plate with food to him and waited for him to finish while I watched some new episode of 'Doctor Who'. I love that show! After forty minutes, he didn't even bite the turkey! I plead for Sherlock to eat. Not worth it. I went back to kitchen and I got some food for me instead. Back on the couch, I started to eat my turkey whilst watching a second episode of 'Doctor Who'.

And there the funny part begins.

I noticed that Sherlock was looking intensively at my food. I said nothing. Suddenly, he took a bit of my turkey's breast. As he did not do it again, I kick that moment to the back of my memory. Until this evening.

"Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson made some chicken soup. She's so nice. She found that you were sick and made you a soup."

"I know you told her about my… actual condition. Just wasted your time. I am not going to eat."

Ignoring him, I put the soup in a bowl which Harry gave me a couple of years ago and gave it to him.

"_Did he eat it?"_

"_You're still asking?"_

I got is entire-filled bowl back and then my brain clicked. To fool him, I went to the kitchen for the million time today, made some noise, as if I was putting soup in my own bowl and went back to living room. I started to eat his soup. He stared at it. I made a break and watch some telly. Sherlock got my spoon, plunged it on the chicken soup and ate it. He didn't stop and ate it all.

"How was it?"

"Why is your food always better, John?"

I looked at him. "That's your soup, Sherlock. You must be really sick. Look at the bowl. It's yours."

"_Touché."_

"_You fooled Sherlock Holmes?"_

"_You bet it."_

"_How did he react?"_

"_That's a little secret of us."_

"_Is it?"_

"_He made me swear that I wouldn't tell anyone about that, and I already broke part of the promise, so…"_

"_It's nice to know that I can count on you to keep a secret John. I'll keep that in mind when one of girlfriends comes in here and I tell her why are you called 'Three Continents Watson'."_

"_How long have you been there? And you wouldn't!"_

"_For a while. Believe me John. I would."_

"_Don't walk way, Sherlock Holmes! I am gonna give you a 'speech' and then you'll be forced to go to the hospital!"_

"_As a doctor, John, you're not giving a good impression."_

"_Don't worry, I'll put everything back on the place when I'm done." _

"_Gentlemen, sorry to disturb. We are almost reaching the end of-"_

"_Then leave!"_

"_Sherlock!"_

"_What?!"_

"_They're our guests."_

"_Guests? They'll be following us for an unknown period of time in order to reach something I am not even aware about. They are not guests! They are…"_

"_Hei! What are you two whispering? We want to know!"_

"_You really don't want to!"_

"_Mr. Watson! Hold on a moment! We have to talk about tomorrow's episode. Since this one was the first one, is a little bit different from the others and-"_

"_Yeah, yeah, ok. We'll talk tomorrow!"_

"_No, wait!"_

"_Bye bye . See ya!"_


	4. Of Course I Know What Lol Means! -Part 2

**Hello again! Sorry for the delay! As you already may have noticed, English is not my native language, though I give my best! Finally holidays came! More time to write and to get inspired! From now on, I'll try to post a new chapter once (sometimes twice, hopefully) a week. Thanks to everyone who enjoys this story! Don't forget to review and comment. Disclaimer: I already talked to Matiss (also) and he said no way a non-British girl could possible own Sherlock. You'll see Mark, I'm coming to get you...**

**Enjoy!**

Ahahah! You're sick! The amazing Sherlock Holmes is sick! And everyone saw it 'cause you were on TV! lol – **GL**

Detective Inspector, I'm really not in the mood for little chat. If you wish to humiliate me more than John has already done today, go ahead. I won't stop you. – **SH**

OMFG! It's true! You´re ill! I thought it was a joke! So sorry Sherlock! You saying that you don't care about anyone making fun of you it's normal, but not complaining nor asking what 'lol' means… Get better buddy. – **GL**

I didn't ask because I know what it means. – **SH**

You do? Surprise me then. – **GL**

Of course it means 'League of Legends'! I just don't understand what the connection between the game and the fact that I am sick is. But do not enlighten me. No interest at all. – **SH**

Can't. Stop. Laughing. Sherlock. Just. Killed. Me. – **GL**

What?! Why?! What did he do?! Tell me! – **JW**

I texted Sherlock and I wrote lol for some reason. Then I asked him what it means. Do you what he said? – **GL**

John, ignore everything Lestrade is going to type. He is drunk, for sure. – **SH**

'LEAGUE OF LEGENDS'! CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?! – **GL**

YOU SERIOUS?!~XD – **JW**

Do you have Twitter? And Facebook? – **GL**

Hell yeah! – **JW**

You already got the idea, didn't you? ;-) – **GL**

On the moment you said 'League of Legends', our brains made a connection between them! I'll ask for Sherlock to prove that theory! – **JW**

May I join you? I have contacts all over the world. – **MH**

I am not even asking how do you know what we are doing… - **JW**

Welcome aboard, my friend. Once inside, there's no way out. – **GL**

My dear, challenge me and that will be the last thing you'll do for the rest of your pathetic life. – **MH**

Your brother-in-law is a little weirdo, John. – **GL**

How many times… SHERLOCK IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND! – **JW**

You are the only one who still believes that. :-P – **GL**

True… - **MH**

STOP IT!Let's get it started, alright? – **JW**

watch?v=v5CmwsrT0cY – **GL**

Greg, that's not what I mean! – **JW**

Sorry, I really had to do it :-} – **GL**

Can we start? – **MH**

Your still here? - **JW**

Dear Lord, Doctor Watson. Your grammar is terrible. – **MH**

Alright, that's it! I'm done with the Holmes and they're problem with the stupid English grammar! - **JW **

*their. Are you sure you've been to school? – **MH**

You know what? F*** you all! – **JW**

Did the show go bad? – **MH**

* * *

Hi Molly! Sherlock said that lol means 'League of Legends'! Ahahah! – **GL**

It actually means that. – **molly**

Not in this subtext. – **GL**

You should not make fun of Sherlock while he's sick. – **molly**

But it's funny! – **GL**

Molly? Are you there? – **GL**

* * *

Hi Sherlock! Feeling better? – **molly**

Leave me alone, Molly. – **SH**

* * *

Anderson, you wanna hear something marvellous? – **GL**

Even better than Sherlock being sick on TV? – **PA**

PA? What's your first name? – **GL**

Not important. – **PA**

Paul? – **GL**

No – **PA**

Peter? – **GL**

Just give up. – **PA**

Pace? Patrick? Peter? – **GL**

You'll never know. – **PA**

Won't I, Philip? – **GL**

How did you find out?! – **PA**

I GOT IT RIGHT?! MAN! I AM A FREAKING GENIOUS! – **GL**

No, you're not! – **JM**

Who are you? – **GL**

Theimprobableone. – **JM *  
**

Who? – **GL**

* * *

Hi Sherlock. Sorry about that earlier. – **JW**

No problem. – **SH**

Can I tell you a joke? – **JW**

Go ahead. – **SH**

Knock, knock. – **JW**

Who is it? – **SH**

Doctor. – **JW**

Doctor who? – **SH**

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! You got it?! – **JW**

Yeah. Very funny! – **SH**

You did not understand, did you? – **JW**

Nope. – **SH**

* * *

My intelligent boy! Why didn't you tell me you were sick? – **mummy Holmes**

I am better now, mum. – **SH**

You sure? – **mummy Holmes**

Yes. – **SH**

You know I care about you, Sherlock. – **SH**

I know, I know. How's dad? – **SH**

I which I could say. – **mummy Holmes**

Can I speak to him? – **SH**

Not tonight, sweetie. Not tonight. Love you! – **Mummy Holmes**

Love you too, mum. - **SH**

***If you didn't get the hint, please check the blog of Dr. John H. Watson. You'll get the idea... :D **


	5. Carpe Diem - Part 1

**Hello! As promised, here's the new chapter. A few information: every time that the text is in _italic_ it means that the characters are talking in the "real life", not in the TV; every chapter will be separeted in two parts with different titles - one about the TV show and another about texts changed between Sherlock and the others; finally, I would love for you to give me ideas. I'll try to choose the best ones and write about them. Do not forget to review and leave a comment!****  
**

**I still don't know how to answer to the comments so:**

**James Birdsong: The first review! Thank you! Glad you like this! Please, do not forget to give me ideas! I'm counting on you :-)  
**

**Disclaimer: Bla bla bla, Sherlock's not mine (yet), bla bla bla...**

**Enjoy!**

"_One less."_

"_You're always so positive John. In case you didn't notice, it was the SECOND day. There are, at least, a hundred more episodes to go."_

"_You take this as the half empty glass. I take it like the half full glass."_

"_What the hell are you talking about?"_

"_It's just an expression. I don't expect you to understand."_

"_Of course I do! I am-"_

"_-the brilliant Sherlock Holmes! Blah blah blah..."_

"_I'm more than brilliant. I am amazing! I am awesome! I am a genius!"_

"_Alright genius, what do you think about turning on the TV and watch today's episode?"_

"_Since there's nothing else to do…"_

**06:30 AM (John's Bedroom)**

"Rise and shine Mr. Watson! Today's a big day! Brand new cases! New adventures!"

"Get your ass out of my room! All of you!"

"Mr. Watson, we are already filming. Do you really wanna start screaming? Everyone in England will watch it."

"This show is about showing people who Sherlock Holmes and I really are, isn't it? Well then, this is John Watson in the morning!"

John started to push everyone out of his room. As every single member of the team was out, John sighted and moved to the bathroom. Taking a quick shower, he felt all the pressure leaving his shoulders. However, as soon as he finished it, the pressure hit John once again. 'Everyone in England will watch it.' Those words scared him. The entire nation would finally know him for real. The question is: did he want people to know John Watson as the old John Watson? After leaving so many years with Sherlock and his cases, experiments and everything else, he actually believed that his old self was no longer there.

"_Well, well… Why were you taking so long in the shower John? Anything… inappropriate?"_

"_Shut up Sherlock!"_

"_Just wondering…"_

"_I told them to leave my room! Why didn't they?"_

"_D'you actually believed that?"_

**06:35 AM (Sherlock's Bedroom)**

"Rise and shine Mr. Holmes! Today's a big d-"

"I seriously think that that 'scheme' didn't work out with John, did it?"

"N-no."

"Then why did it cross your mind that it would work with me?"

"I-I didn't…"

"Leave. I'm feeling rather sick and I'd like to spend my time in bed."

"But… What about the cases?"

"John made me promise I wouldn't take any while I'm ill."

"And the chases?"

"None today."

"Experiments?"

"All of them have blown up."

"_What do you mean 'blown up'?!"_

"_John, I don't find this moment the most appropriate, although I find that situation rather amusing."_

"_Ah ah! This is a sarcastic laugh by the way!"_

"_I'm not dumb, John."_

"_Oh really?! Really?!"_

"…"

"…"

"_Yes."_

**07:00 AM (Kitchen)**

"Morning Sherlock."

"Only if it's for you."

"Agree. Not a good morning."

Both Sherlock and John sat at the kitchen while taking breakfast. John put is fork on the bacon and took it to his mouth, savouring it slowly. Sherlock, on the other hand, was reading the newspapers of the day. Looking over the papers, Sherlock noticed John's eyebrow arch a bit. Ignoring it, he kept reading the murder's section.

"So, how did they wake you up?"

"The same way as you."

"Not creative, then?"

"Nope."

Taking lots of time, Sherlock and John finished their meals and moved to the living room, where John turned the telly on. Buffing, Sherlock jumped to the couch and waited for John to join him.

"What's going to be today? Mr. Bean? Downtown Abbey?"

"I never watched Downtown Abbey."

"I swear I saw it somewhere. Oh! How obvious!"

"Where?"

"Mycroft. He's such a drama queen."

"Funny, he said exactly the same about you."

"Copycat."

"Moving on, we're gonna watch… Doctor Who!"

"No."

"Yes!"

"No, no, no, no, no, NO!"

"Yes, yes, YES!"

"Why?!"

"Because I want to!"

"Sorry, I thought you were kidding when you said that today there were no cases."

In that moment, the detective and the blogger turned their heads and stared at the cameras and the entire team which was filming all their moves. Looking icily at the man who dared to interrupt his dialogue with John, Sherlock got up of the couch and analysed the poor guy up his head down his feet. Concluding there was anything useful to say, he moved back to his bedroom.

John felt anger bowling inside him. How could it be possible this people were so stupid? The previous day Sherlock was so sick that it was amazing that he could stay out of bed. Finally, when Sherlock put some sense in his head and understood it was better for him not to go outside this earlier in order to not get ill again, this bloke appears and destroys all the progress.

"Great job."

"What did I do?"

"Oh, I don't know… Perhaps convincing Sherlock to leave this house!"

"I…We just wanted to see you in a normal day…"

"This is how a normal day looks like! Do you actually believe that every day there's a new case? There're not! Most of the times, when they exist, Sherlock ignores them because they're not interesting!"

"So, if someone's life depends on it, Mr. Holmes won't help that person due to the fact he doesn't consider it important?"

"N-no! I didn't say that! I… Sherlock… He…"

"He ignores people's needs for his own entertainment."

"Shut your mouth! That's not what I meant! Sherlock has his own method of choice."

"A particular method indeed and it is none of your business." Sherlock walked in the living room already with his Belstaff Milford coat dressed and his blue scarf on his left hand. "John, we must go now, Mycroft just called me. Some "top-secret" thing of the British government has been stolen in the last 2 hours. He's getting slow."

"What about Doctor Who?"

"I am deeply sure the alien won't mind if you miss one episode."

"Today's the marathon! I'm gonna miss ten episodes! Important ones!"

"It's 7:25 of the morning, John. You'll see, we'll be back home before you can even see how fat Mycroft has got this weekend!

"Not helping…"

"I know. C'mon! We have to go before my brother manages to threaten me with a title of saviour of the nation. Again!"

"Sherlock, the previous night we talked about your illness!"

"I'm no longer sick, John. Move on!"

"We agreed you'd stay home for three days! To be sure you wouldn't have to go to the hospital."

"Yeah yeah! Go get ready!"

**09:00 AM (Confidential Location)**

Everybody but John was ecstatic. A case! An actual case! All the British people would finally see how the amazing detective was going to solve a good puzzle. Sherlock and John, centre of the attentions, walked a few feet away from the cameras. The team had orders to keep out of the way of the consulting detective and his blogger, so they wouldn't disturb the progress of the case.

"Here we are. At the-"

"SHUT UP!" John shouted at team. He wondered how many idiots there were on the team. What part of 'confidential location' did they not understand?

"Don't worry John, you're not the only one who thinks like that. However, I can confirm that most of them are exactly what you think they are. How hateful."

"I'm not even going to ask how you know what I was thinking about."

"Good choice."

They got inside an old factory. No light and dust everywhere. The walls of brick kept the plant cold. Sherlock moved straight ahead until he reached a door. It was locked. He moved to the next one. Also locked. Only a door was left. Turning the knob, he heard a click and the door opened. The detective got inside followed right behind by John and the TV show team. Inside the room, there was a long bench where fifteen people at least could sit. Walking slowly to the bench, Sherlock and a stressful doctor observed the room. Filming the detective and the blogger analysing the entire room, there was no way the team could be more pleased with themselves. They were filming Sherlock Holmes in action!

The pair sat on the bench. Looking at each other, John and Sherlock understood right away what was crossing the mind of the partner. 'What's next?'

"It seems that Mycroft forgot us."

"_You just couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you John?"_

"_What can I say? Karma is a bitch!"_

The door suddenly close and got locked. Giving a collective scream, the people who made part of the team started to run, each to his own side. Sensing that Sherlock was going to quickly take the control and make everyone get more frightened with himself than the fact that all of them were locked in an abandoned factory, John got to his feet, hold Sherlock back and handed the situation on his own. It took a great amount of time, but John Hamish Watson dealt with it calmly and bravely.

"Well done, Dr. Watson. Very well indeed."

Turning their heads towards the sound, everybody stopped.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

"I don't know. I'm not the one who lives daily adventures with a certain consulting detective, am I, Johnny Boy?" Moriarty stepped out of the darkness with a big despicable smile on his face. He started to laugh as soon as he saw everyone but Sherlock flinch.

"So, what do you say Sherlock? The game is on?"

"The game is on." Sherlock's eyes were flaming with excitement.

"Sherlock, don't! There are people behind us right now. You can't just give a response to _him_ like that. In front of everyone. People will-"

"People will what?"

"Don't you get tired of cutting me? I want to talk!"

"I like it that way."

"Oh! Look at you boys! So much cuteness in the air. How adorable! Can I join?"

"Piss off!" John shout and looking at the team, he stopped.

Sherlock and Moriarty fixed the other ones in the room. Astonished. The entire team was working promptly, trying to capture every scene with the cameras. They had one single objective: give England the best overturn of the century! It was not every day that a criminal mastermind would appear (especially when that person was dead!), instead of someone of the government. Not that this guy was someone who showed up a lot either.

"Oh my God! The TV thing as already started! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why should we?" Sherlock wondered. "You weren't supposed to be here."

"Boy, my good Westwood suit is at my house. Damn!"

"It's just a suit."

"Just a suit? Just a suit?! Do you know how much do I love those clothes?"

"You mean, if I destroyed it, you'd die at once?"

"Ah ah. Very funny lapdog."

John was nearly jumping at Moriarty. Who did that bastard think he was to give him such nickname? Sherlock grabbed John, pushed him back towards the cameras and left him there. "I'll be right back."

**05:13 PM**

"'The alien won't mind', you said. 'We'll be back home soon', you said."

"Wrong. I said we would be back home before we saw Mycroft, and I was right. He wasn't even there!"

After a busy day (it was revealed that all of it was a scheme of Moriarty), everyone was returning home. Not very happy. Sherlock and Jim managed to talk a lot and no one heard a word of what they were saying. Besides, it took more than eight hours!

"_I didn't ask you. What did you say to take so long?"_

"_Oh, nothing important."_

"_I believe we'll see the results sooner?"_

"_Yup."_

"_Something big?"_

"_Very big." _

Sherlock took the key of the pocket of his coat and unlocked the main door. The living partners went inside and saw Mrs. Hudson waiting at the door.

"Where were you boys? You were gone so soon that I haven't given you the usual biscuits and now you return at these hours?"

"Oh Mrs. Hudson, it's not even seven. Besides, we are grown men. We leave and we arrive whenever we want."

"I know. But it is not nice leaving me here alone, wondering where have you gone. One day, you'll be really missing and I won't call the police that time."

Sherlock seemed to wake up that moment and joined the conversation. "You…You mean you called the police?"

"Oh! Yes, yes I did."

"Great job! You just manage to humiliate yourself in national television!"

"National… Oh no! I am not properly dressed! Turn way! Turn way!" Martha left the hall and moved back to her house, closing loudly the door.

"Please, the last one to get in closes the door." Sherlock climbed up the stairs. John did the same shortly after. Once inside, both men took off their coats and gloves and fell on the couch. John grabbed the remote and pointed it towards the telly, turning it on. He buffed when he heard the credits of the last episode of Doctor Who. He missed them all.

"I'm starving. Fancy a dinner?"

"Sure. Angelo's?"

"Certainly."

The TV team that just now has sat had to get up again, to follow Sherlock and John to wherever they go. Going down the stairs, Sherlock opened the door and let John pass first. John suddenly jumped backwards. The detective looked outside and saw the street full of police cars. DI Lestrade strode of one of the cars and, as he reached Sherlock, punched him in the nose.

"Never, but never do it again!"

"Dum uat?" Sherlock, with a hand pressing the nose, looked alarmed at the DI.

"That! Disappearing from the face of the Earth! Mrs. Hudson called us in, saying you and John were missing, that someone had kidnapped you and… Hell! Do you know the stress I went through? I was just about calling your brother!"

"Yu know main laifesteinle, don you? Then, whai boder seaching afte me?"

"Because we care, Sherlock! I care!"

Sherlock stopped. He wasn't used to this. Since the Fall and after his return, everything was so different. Everyone was always after him. He was never allowed to be left alone for more than a couple of hours. When he was in the same room as Moriarty that day for more than seven hours, John got so scared. He didn't want to lose his best friend again. Sherlock just returned from the dead, back to John, thinking that Moriarty was gone for good. It seems that Sherlock wasn't the only one who had a trick inside the sleeve. While one lives, the other cannot die. 'Typical hero story' John thought.

**09:30 PM (Police Station)**

They had dinner at the police station. After reporting the supposed 'kidnap', Sherlock promised he would never leave again to a dangerous case without warning anyone besides John. Apparently, that day both of them had their phones with no charge, and Mrs. Hudson, trying to call John and Sherlock and receiving no answer, called the police officer she knew due to Sherlock's cases: the Detective Inspector Lestrade.

John, tired of cameras following him all day long, asked the team to finish today's episode and tomorrow they would start again. Nodding, the person in charge of the second episode ordered to pack up the cameras and supports and they left soundlessly. Thanking God, John grabbed Sherlock's arm and lead them home. 'Carpe Diem' he thought.

**If you don't know what _carpe diem_ means, please watch Phineas and Ferb. They made a whole episode just about it (so-so) **


	6. AN

**I know… You must all be thinking "Look at this one. Promised to post every week and failed at the second week.". Yeah. Sorry… But I have a very reasonable explanation: an (almost) brand new PC! It's huge! If you could see the one I have now, you'd laugh (as everyone else). I'm still transferring the documents, programs and everything else to the new so… Ya know… It takes time. **

**More… I forgot to mention, the story occurs after the return of Sherlock (as well as Moriarty's) and there is no Mary (I really like her, but I wanted John to live in Baker Street). Eventually, I'll consider including her.**

**I already have a new chapter written and I could post it now. However, I won't. I'm terrible, yes, yes, I know. All of this has a reason, I want to have, at least, two-three chapters written, in case that, if something happens to prevent me from writing, I have those as backup.**

**Hmmm… English is not my native language and if someone is curious how the story looks like in Portuguese (a beautiful language), here's the link: .br/historia/522229/A_Modern_Gang/**

**At least, don't forget to give me ideas for future chapters and review! **


	7. Questions - Part 2

You knew it, didn't you? – **JW**

What? – **SH**

That it was Moriarty who was going to appear, instead of Mycroft. – **JW**

I did not know. – **SH**

You're lying. – **JW**

I'm not. – **SH**

Too short answers. You're lying. – **JW**

Only lies have details. Therefore, I'm not lying to you. – **SH**

He is. Do not believe him, Dr. Watson. He half expected to see me there. – **JM**

Hum… A criminal master mind and a self-proclaimed sociopath… Who should I believe? – **JW**

Me! Choose me! – **JM**

Sure, why not? – **JW**

I am certain that you are trying to fool me, lapdog. – **JM**

You call me that one more time and I swear I'll kill you. – **JW**

Sherly, dear, you should put John on a leash. Take him for a walk. Just to brighten his ideas a bit. – **JM**

I like John exactly the way he is. Don't call me Shirley. – **SH**

I called you "Sherly", not "Shirley". – **JM**

Don't care. It's all the same. – **SH**

No, it's not! – **JM**

It is! – **SH**

It isn't! – **JM**

It is! – **SH**

It isn't! – **JM**

It is! – **SH**

IT ISN'T! – **JM**

IT IS! – **SH**

IF ANY OF YOU REPEATS THAT AGAIN, I'LL KILL YOU BOTH! :# =[ - **JW**

You're right. I may consider your advice. – **SH**

I told you there was a difference. – **JM**

I didn't mean the names. I was talking about taking him for a walk. – **SH**

And don't forget the leash! – **JM**

Goodnight Moriarty. – **SH**

Wait! Did you notice the code John used? – **JM**

Yes. I keep wondering what it means. - **SH **

Me too. You go check with your Homeless Network. I'll go check with my Criminal Network- **JM**

Consider it done. – **SH**

I've done it first than you. – **JM**

No, you didn't. – **SH**

I did. – **JM**

You didn't. – **SH**

I did. – **JM**

Didn't! – **SH**

Did! – **JM**

STOP IT NOW! SHERLOCK GO TO BED! MORIARTY GO BACK WHEREVER YOU WERE! – **JW**

I'm right in the same place as was before. – **JM**

I just saw you in the other side of the street. – **JW**

Really? Jim, wait! I'm coming! – **SH**

Alright. Hurry! – **JM**

What part of hurry did you not understand? – **JM**

Are you still there? – **JM**

Tic tac tic tac… - **JM**

Oh! I see. – **JM**

Get him John! There are times I wish I could be a cheerleader. My mum always said "Hell no!". However, I think she always wanted me to be a girl. To make me ponytails. – **JM**

Keep me updated lol – **JM**

* * *

Brother dear, you better keep the TV team under control. I don't want my name to become public and I specially don't want them to give the locations of secret areas. – **MH**

I thought you wanted to be in national television. – **SH**

One more warning, Sherlock. You text Moriarty again and I'll tie you up to the bed. - **JW**

I was texting Mycroft. – **SH**

Well then, you may continue. – **JW**

Glad our conversation has your approval, John. – **SH**

Back where we were, I told you I was satisfied that I would not be on the show. – **MH**

Mum told different. – **SH**

What do you mean? – **MH**

She texted me a couple days ago, saying you wanted to be there. – **SH**

Mum is getting old. You can't listen to everything she says. – **MH**

You're texting mum, aren't you? – **MH**

Damn, I'm screwed. – **MH**

You bet. :-0 – **SH**

Did you crack the code? – **MH**

John told me everything about it. It's just ridiculous. – **SH**

That's cheating! You couldn't ask for help! – **MH**

First of all, this wasn't a contest of who could crack the code first than the other. Second of all, I didn't ask for help. John read my texts and told me. – **SH**

What does it mean then? – **MH**

Turn your mobile to the right, as if it was lying, and tell me what you see. – **SH**

Oh my God. – **MH**

Yup. – **SH**

Mum just texted me. She's coming to pay us a visit. She said something about "talking about our behaviour". – **MH**

I thought you were referring to the code. – **SH**

That thing? I cracked it a long time before you. – **MH**

No you didn't! Until five minutes ago you had no idea! – **SH**

I did. – **MH**

You didn't! – **SH**

I did. – **MH**

YOU DID NOT! – **SH**

I did. – **MH**

MUM! – **SH**

Behave you two! It seems I don't have grown up children but kids instead! – **Mummy Holmes**

It was Mycroft! – **SH**

Of course! It's always Mycroft. – **MH**

It's always you. – **GL**

Greg? Not you! I already said I'm sorry! – **MH**

And I already said I don't give a fuck. – **GL**

Sherlock, dear, is this the lovely DI of the other day? – **Mummy Holmes**

Yes. If my sources are correct, Mycroft dumped Lestrade. – **SH**

Mycroft what?! – **Mummy Holmes**

You "heard me". Although it's physically impossible for you to hear me, since you're not talking to me. You're texting me. – **SH**

Oh really? – **Mummy Holmes**

You can't imagine how much I missed you being sarcastic. Is dad better? – **SH**

Much better. – **Mummy Holmes**

Happy to hear it, mum. I really am. Give my bests to dad. – **SH**

I will. Oh, and please stop that rivalry with your brother. – **Mummy Holmes**

It's not rivalry. – **SH**

It isn't sweetie. It isn't. – **Mummy Holmes**

Don't you start! I've had enough of that today. – **SH**

You're afraid of John, aren't you? – **Mummy Holmes**

No. – **SH**

Sherlock… - **Mummy Holmes**

Yes… - **SH**

Well then, I'll talk to you tomorrow. I've got many questions about Moriarty's return. - **Mummy Holmes **

_Talk _tomorrow? Like face-to-face conversation? – **SH**

Obviously. – **Mummy Holmes**

Why did you not warn me? – **SH**

Mycroft told you. – **Mummy Holmes**

And you say you are my mother… Mum, I IGNORE MYCROFT. I hear nothing he says. – **SH**

I knew it… - **MH**

Did Lestrade kick your ass? – **SH**

Sherlock! – **Mummy Holmes**

Oh c'mon! I'd love to see that happen! – **SH**

It'll never happen. – **MH**

You wanna bet? – **SH**

I'm in! – **MH**

Prepare to loose, sucker! – **SH**

SHERLOCK! – **Mummy Holmes**

BYE MUM! – **SH**

Keep out of London, Mummy. Please… - **MH**

You convinced me to make the opposite. Kisses! – **Mummy Holmes**

I hope you are very proud of yourself. – **SH**

Shut up. – **MH**

* * *

That Holmes family… Give up John. None of the Holmes is good enough for any of us. – **GL**

Whatever… I'm not going to repeat myself. – **JW**

Alleluia! We were all asking when you would give up on that. – **GL**

Mycroft dumped you, but that doesn't mean you have to disturb me. – **JW**

God! What happened to you? You sound just like Sherlock. Why does everybody hate me? – **GL**

Bye Greg. – **JW**

No! Don't leave me! – **GL**

John? – **GL**

I tried to call you. Why does it keep saying "your message was send to the voicemail"? – **GL**

Lestrade… - **SH**

Sherlock! Buddy! – **GL**

Do you have any case for me? – **SH**

No. – **GL**

Some sort of information that is essential for me to know? – **SH**

No. – **GL**

THEN STOP TEXTING US AT 2 AM! – **JW**

You did it. You guys managed to get rid of another friend of yours. – **GL**

Finally! – **SH**

Sherlock! – **JW**

Fine. Apologies, Inspector. Have a good night. – **SH**

Thanks. You two have a good night of sleep. – **GL**

We will. We will. - **JW**


	8. A Day With Mrs Holmes - Part 1

**09:00 AM (Living Room) - Interview**

"Morning everyone. Today I'm gonna start by saying that NO ONE except the TV team and Sherlock and I are allowed to know the locations of secret areas. Therefore, please don't write on twitter that you've been inside a factory near the north of Thames. Yes Charlie, that's for you. No, don't run away! Sherlock wants to speak to you!"

"I really do."

"Oh please! I've only been with you guys for two days and I already know you! He'll give me _the look_ and I'll pee on my pants."

"What _look?_ Everybody keeps talking about _the look_. What _look_?!"

"There! Stop! Keep your face the exact way it is!"

"Why John?"

"Don't talk! Now! Look at the mirror!"

"Once again, that's my face."

"Ugh! Forget it! Skipping this, as we don't have any cases or an appointment, I-"

"I DO HAVE an appointment. I was going on a date."

"Sherlock, it hardly counts as a date if one of the members is a _part _of a human."

"It still is a human."

"It's the liver of a person!"

"The closest I get to a human."

"What do you think I am?"

"My blogger."

"What about you?"

"A superior mind confined to the scum of the Earth on the form of a 'rational' animal."

"Funny."

"I know. I've been practising."

"Mind Palace! Yeah, that's what I was gonna talk about. I understood in the worst way possible that most people don't know what it is."

"'Rational animals' my ass."

"SHERLOCK!"

"Apologies."

"Go to your bedroom."

"Are you my mother?"

"I'm more than a mother, you realize that."

"True."

"May I continue? As I was saying, most people don't know the concept of Method of Loci or Memory Palace and I intend to explain them. Sherlock uses this method, but he calls his 'Mind Palace'."

"Because it is a palace."

"I'll tell you guys a little story. One day, we were walking to a park when DI Lestrade called us. He was in the same park with the rest of the Scotland Yard. There has been a murder."

"A MURDER!"

"Yes Sherlock, a murder. God, you're such a child."

"My mum always says that. MUM!"

"What?"

"She's visiting us today. I completely forgot that!"

"Oh! Yes. Let me just finish the story. So Sherlock and I walked there, blablabla and he went to his Mind Palace. Some random officer needed to talk to him. That guy called him numerous times but Sherlock didn't answer. So the idiot started to shake Sherlock."

"That was a mistake."

"Oh boy! Please, do NOT touch him while he's thinking."

"I'll punch you."

"He got arrested."

"_We_ got arrested. You shout abuse at the officer."

"I was trying to protect you!"

"Great job."

"Sarcasm. You're getting good."

"No need to say the obvious John."

**11:25 (Living Room) – End of Interview**

"Hello Mum." Sherlock opened the door and allowed his mother to get in the flat. The TV team backed away to the farthest corner of the living room.

"Sherlock! How have you been? It's been a long time since we last talked face-to-face. Looks like it have passed centuries!" Mrs. Holmes grabbed his son's face on her hands and gave him a kiss only a mother could give: full of pure love and wonder. Sherlock immediately hugged her, burying his chin on her shoulder. A big part of the people who were watching this would think he was having a moment of tenderness with his mother, but John knew affection wasn't the only thing in there: embarrassment was also there. The great Sherlock Holmes showing feelings towards someone? On TV?

Breaking the too long hug, Sherlock stepped aside, so that John could be seen. "Mum, this is John. He solves cases with me and blogs about it."

Turning her lips in a gleeful smile, Mrs. Holmes moved next to John. "John Watson. I can't express how happy I am to finally meet you. Mycroft told me how you manage to change my younger son to better. I can see it clearly."

"You just arrived. How can you say I'm different?" Sherlock throw a puzzled look to his mother. For the first time, John saw the you-kidding-me look being sent to Sherlock.

"You hugged me. Hugged me as if it was the last time we would see each other." Mrs. Holmes wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. Everyone saw it. For years, this lady waited for this to happen. For her son to _hug _her. Something as ordinary as a hug, that meant so much to her. "Besides" she continued "you didn't close the door at my face."

"Yeah, I believe I'm a tiny bit different now." Sherlock whispered so only his mother could listen. With a nod, Mrs. Holmes walked to the sofa. She sat and observed the house. The cameras were pointed at her. "It already started then."

"Indeed." Sherlock walked close and stared down at her. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes please." She answered as John went to the kitchen to make the tea. He opened the cupboard and took three cups. "You also want, don't you Sherlock?"

"I do." John put the kettle to boil and waited. He decided to give some space to his friend and Mrs. Holmes. Well, the most space they could have with the cameras in there.

"So, sweetie, our name is clean now?"

"Yes. Mycroft and Lestrade took care of the all bureaucracy. I'm a 'hero' now." Sherlock made quotes with his hands while saying hero.

"You still believe you're not one? Look at you. You've been through hell to keep your friends alive. I know many people who would not do a half of what you did in this past two years." Mrs. Holmes grabbed his hand and started to rub it. The movement on the hand gave Sherlock a feel of warmth he didn't feel since he was a kid. He wondered why.

"I had to do it. They would die." Sherlock said as a matter-fact.

"No, you didn't. You could have just let them die. But you didn't. Why?" She knew the answer. There was no need for him to give her a response. She just wanted for him to think about it. Mrs. Holmes always had the capacity to make her children shut and think about what they've done. Today instead, she wanted her little boy to get somewhere with the confusion that afflicts him so much this last years.

**07:00 PM **

The morning passed by. John introduced Mrs. Hudson to Mrs. Holmes and it looked like they were old friends. They gossiped and talked about things only women could understand. John wondered how Sherlock and Mycroft could be the children of this lady. She was so… ordinary. Mrs. Hudson made the lunch and everyone ate at the old lady's kitchen. Light talk went between forkfuls. Even Sherlock participated.

The afternoon passed by. Requested, Sherlock played a beautiful tune for his mother. Music filled the flat with colours. People danced (TV team also), sang and fell into a fit of laugh. John caught a grin on Sherlock's face.

Later that afternoon, John suggested going to the cinema. Mrs. Holmes and Mrs. Hudson agreed happily and Sherlock declined politely.

"No way. You're coming with us. Today I want to spend a full day with my kid and you won't say no." Firmly, she took her son's wrist and pushed him to the hall. Cursing everyone, Sherlock grabbed his coat and scarf and called a taxi. John and the women left the flat, closing the door behind the TV group.

The cab trip itself wasn't that bad. The worse came when they entered the shopping centre. Thousands of people came from nowhere and started taking pictures of them.

"Mr. Holmes! !"

"Just a sec Mr. Holmes!"

"Look! It's them!"

"Doesn't John look like a hedgehog?"

"A what?!" Approaching Sherlock by behind, John shot an angry look at Charlie. This one lowered his head, not being capable of looking at John's eyes. "Charlie, what have you done?!"

"Maybe, just maybe, I… I wrote on Twitter you… were going to be here this afternoon." He whispered. John found it really hard to listen to him with shouts coming from everywhere.

"Sherlock, how do we…" John looked around. Sherlock was gone. As his mother. And Mrs. Hudson. "What the hell?..." Now even more confused, he tried to cross the barrier of fans and journalists. After what seemed hours, John got away and run to the cinema. When he got there, he saw Sherlock buying the tickets. The ladies were not there.

Breathing quickly, John fell on a chair close to the counter and tried to speak to Sherlock. "You… You left me… _there_… with those… How did you escape? Where's your mother? And Mrs. Hudson?"

"Answering your last question, the ladies are in the toilet. As how we escaped… I have contacts. Does that satisfy you?" Getting the tickets from the young clerk, Sherlock turned to leave when Mrs. Holmes blocked his passage. With a suffer tone, Sherlock addressed to his mother "What now mum?"

"Popcorn. A medium size for me and a small one for Mrs. Hudson."

"You like that?"

"Yes. You never cared to know."

Mrs. Holmes took the tickets of Sherlock's hand and walked away to the movie theatre with Mrs. Hudson, who just got off the toilet.

"Ugh! Ladies. Have your breath back?" Sherlock smiled at John. The doctor rose of the chair and asked for a large size of popcorn. Once he got it, the detective and the blogger left for the movie.

"Which one did you choose?"

"The Fault in our Stars."

"What?! No!"

"Mrs. Hudson read the book. Mrs. Turner next door watched the movie. She said men and women cry. Everyone cries. I'm going to make the difference."

John's mouth fell. "Are you saying that you allowed them to choose this movie so that you can change the statistics?!"

Sherlock stoped. He opened his mouth and closed it immediately. They made their way to the chairs next to the women. They sat. And Sherlock told John "Yes."

**09:00 PM (Cinema)**

The movie ended. Mrs. Hudson was crying. Mrs. Holmes was crying. John was crying. Sherlock was staring down. Making no sound.

"Sherlock. You ok?" John put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. Sherlock looked up and blinked the eyes. John couldn't believe it. "Are you crying?"

The detective turned and faced John with an angry face. "Do you see tears rolling down my cheeks?"

"No, but-" John was quickly cut by Sherlock. "Then I'm NOT crying! I am a sociopath. I don't care about such trivialities!" Sherlock rose from the chair and burst through the door of the theatre furiously. The people in there turned around with a questioning look. Mrs. Holmes suddenly hugged John. "Thank you John. Thank you."

"You're welcome?" The doctor hugged back the old lady, not seeing what was she thanking him.

"For making him more… human." She left right away, saying goodbye to Mrs. Hudson, who was still trying to wipe the tears off her face.

"Just look at that. Another mind reader."


	9. I'm So Sorry Sherlock - Part 2

**Boy! I'm on fire! Three chapters in one week? I'll try to keep the rhythm, but who knows? I've some news. Something I love to do while I'm reading is listening to music so, from now on, I'll give you the name of the music I listened while writing the chapter. (Warning: most of the times, the music is part of the soudtrack of a movie)  
**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. Anything. Not even the deerstalker.**

**Music: Coldplay - Atlas**

So… Movie night without Greg. How dare you?! – **GL**

Here we go again. – **SH**

You don't even like to watch movies! I do! – **GL**

Another domestic with Mycroft? – **SH**

That idiot! We met a couple days ago through texts (remember?) and he dumped on me yesterday! So soon?! – **GL**

How could I forget? All because of a 'lol'. He dumped you again, didn't he? – **SH**

YES! What have I done to deserve this?! – **GL**

Nothing. Did you ask my brother why he dumped you again? – **SH**

I tried to call him. He didn't answer. – **GL**

Try again later. He must have a reason, after all. – **SH**

Yeah. I'll do that. – **GL**

Good choice. Don't forget to listen to everything he has to say and then think if you want to give him another chance. – **SH**

WHO ARE YOU?! – **GL**

Sorry? – **SH**

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO SHERLOCK?! WHERE IS HE?! – **GL**

Lestrade, this is me. I am the only Sherlock Holmes you know. – **SH**

It seems not! I know one Sherlock Holmes who is an arrogant bastard and couldn't care less for one person! – **GL**

Lestrade, this is me. I'm the arrogant bastard you are talking about. – **SH**

Prove it! – **GL**

When you were a kid, your elder brother made you go to a girl's make up contest and you won. – **SH**

DELETE THE TEXT! THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO CAN HACK TO YOUR PHONE! – **GL**

Do you believe me now? – **SH**

Yeah, yeah! Delete it! – **GL**

Done. – **SH**

Thanks. Sorry about that. It just looked like you became an Agony Aunt. YOU! – **GL**

You think it was helpful? – **SH**

Yeah. – **GL**

And it seemed like I was actually trying to help someone not dead? – **SH**

Yeah. – **GL**

I won! Take that John! You owe me twenty pounds. – **SH**

What?... – **GL**

That's not fair! Greg is an easy one. It needs to be harder. Try Mycroft this time. – **JW**

Care to explain… - **GL**

Oh! Sorry Greg! This was a game between Sherlock and I. I bet he couldn't help someone alive and looked like he cared. – **JW**

None of what he said was real then? – **GL**

Nope. – **SH**

God, I hate you and I love you so much! That was amazing! You actually helped me! – **GL**

Well then, everyone's happy! :-) – **JW**

Yes. Should I call Mycroft now, Sherlock? Lol – **GL**

Screw you. – **SH**

I'll do it anyway. Give me a minute. I want to talk to you about a new case. – **GL**

* * *

He said a minute and it just turned out to be an hour. – **SH**

I know. I'll give him a call. – **JW**

* * *

First Lestrade, now John. I'm starting to think people are ignoring me. – **SH**

Lots of people do it, sweetie. But not John or Greg. – **Mrs. H.**

Hum… Not sure about it. – **SH**

I am. – **Mrs. H.**

Forget about it. Thank you Mrs. Hudson. – **SH**

You're welcome, my love. – **Mrs. H.**

Bring upstairs some biscuits. – **SH**

Not your housekeeper. – **Mrs. H.**

Leave the biscuits then. Could you call John? I already tried four times and he doesn't answer. I searched for him all over the flat and he's not here. – **SH**

Oh dear! Did something happen to him? – **Mrs. H. **

Just do what I said! – **SH**

Mrs. Hudson? Did he answer it? – **SH**

I'm going downstairs. – **SH**

No, don't. They're on their way upstairs. – **Mrs. H.**

They? – **SH**

I'm so sorry Sherlock. – **Mrs. H.**


	10. He's Gone - Special

**Thanks for the reviews and follows!**

**Disclaimer: All the characters belong to ACD, Moffat and Gatiss. Not fair...**

**Music: Waltz with Bashir - The Haunted Ocean 4 (Max Ritcher)**

John, Lestrade and Mycroft entered 221B. None of them would look Sherlock in the eyes. The detective rose from his armchair and walked over to the three men. John looked up and opened his mouth. However, no sound came out. Closing it, the doctor turned to Mycroft and both nodded to each other.

"I am sorry." John closed his arms around Sherlock. Completely confused, the younger man grabbed John's arms and pushed him far enough so he could look at him. "Why are you sorry?". He wished he didn't ask. The smaller man started to cry, tears rolling down his face and falling to the floor. Sherlock felt a lump in his throat. John was a soldier. As a soldier, he learned how to control his emotions, looking strong when he was actually feeling a wreck. Right now, Sherlock made John cry. But then, he noticed. The doctor was crying because of him. Something happened, something which would seriously hurt Sherlock.

"What happened?" The detective let go John's arms and observed the other men. Lestrade approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder, whispering another 'I'm sorry'.

"I'm getting tired of this! WHAT. IS. GOING. ON?!" Sherlock exploded. Due to the sudden shout, from the now silent block of flats was heard the hurried steps of Mrs. Hudson going up the stairs. The old woman opened the door and moved straight ahead to John and Lestrade.

"Off we go, boys. Let's give them some space." She closed the door and led the duo downstairs.

The brothers stood, not talking to each other. Sherlock was shooting intensive and puzzled glares. "Will you tell me now?"

"You should sit again. What I'm going to say will be hard for you to hear." For the first time since he was child, Sherlock saw true sadness cross his brother's eyes. He got desperate. He knew how to calm down John. When John came back from Afghanistan, Sherlock listened to cries and shouts coming from John's bedroom: nightmares. For weeks, he would go there and play a tune, and when it didn't work, he would sing. One night, Sherlock played more than seven different melodies; However, John didn't stop crying. Instinctively, the younger man started to sing an old song Mycroft used to sing to him when he was just a baby. Everything was wrong. It was supposed to be Mycroft who would calm him down. Not Sherlock.

The siblings sat down on the large couch and Mycroft immediately got closer to his baby brother. The elder Holmes start talking. Sherlock did not listen anything he said, filtering everything, when suddenly he heard "He's gone.".

* * *

John and Lestrade were quiet on Mrs. Hudson' kitchen. The silence was interrupted by eventual sips of tea from both men. The old lady was long gone, heading to her bedroom, trying to get rid of the sadness she was feeling.

John got up, grabbing his cup. He looked at the dirty ware in the sink and decided to give it a wash. Lestrade went helping him. It occupied them for a while. Until they heard a cry. It was just the start. Screams of agony could be even listened on the street. Objects being broken, shattered in little pieces, giving the impression a tornado was devastating the flat over their heads. The difference was that, instead of a tornado, it was Sherlock. It was the detective who was destroying everything in front of him. He was worse than any kind of hurricane.

Listen to a man crying, feeling like nothing was left, as if someone ripped his hearth, was horrible. Now, being that man Sherlock, the self-proclaimed _sociopath_, was pure death.

* * *

**26 Years Ago…**

Sherlock was excited. First day at the new school. After being bullied for three years on the previous one, mum and dad finally allowed him to go to a school close where his father worked. They tried their best to find out who had hurt their younger kid, but he never said a word about it. Every time they asked him who did the marks scattered all over his thin body, Sherlock would find a way to dodge the talk. So the conversation was dropped.

The dark haired boy walked to his new classroom. He hoped here his classmates were different. The previous ones and also teachers have been a torment for him. The kids used to grab young Sherlock by his collar and press him against the walls of the showers. One time, the Sports teacher was passing by and saw everything. Sherlock gasped for help, blood running down from his nose and mouth, yet the man didn't stop. In matter of fact, he smiled at the older boys, approving what they were doing.

* * *

Nothing happened on the first week. It was a happy week on Holmes mansion. William Holmes, the senior, won the court case against the number one Interpol's most wanted list since the last decade. Éloise Holmes was accepted by Cambridge and would start teaching advanced maths to the last year. Mycroft was allowed to skip to the last year at secondary school with only fifteen years. Sherlock was having the best time in his class. No one had been rude to him. He even made a friend called Victor Trevor.

But like all good things, they end too soon.

The oldest boy on Sherlock's class, Juke, was called to solve a maths problem in front of the class. He was hesitating. The Maths teacher was known for being relentless and could be tremendously severe. Sherlock liked him. He enjoyed seeing that man being able to handle every single thing with hands of steel.

Juke didn't know how to answer. He was the biggest bully of the school, but even he was afraid of the teacher. "Do you know the answer already, Mr. Juke?"

Sweat started to pour from his face. Juke turned and looked down at Mr. Clayton. "No. I'm sorry." He waited for a shout of anger, although it never came. Instead, Juke heard a question. "Does anyone know the correct answer?" A small arm on the back of the class rose slowly. "I do."

"Oh. Come on over then." Mr. Clayton handed Sherlock a piece of chalk. "Show what you know."

"It's quite simple actually." The young boy started writing on board. All the children observed astonished as Sherlock solved the question. What they didn't know was that that was a year 9 exercise. It was impossible for any of them solve it. At least, was supposed to be. Sherlock finished solving the question, adding an "Obviously.".

The class went silent. Kids gaped and the teacher took notes. "Well then, you're allowed going to the playground. If you wish, of course, Mr. Holmes." Mr. Clayton dismissed Sherlock with a wave of hand and the boy did as he was said to. He grabbed his staff and left.

Sherlock had fun. He found different types of insects and captured them, putting them on glass bottles he always carried in his backpack. "I'll examine them when I come home."

A shadow formed over him. Sherlock, who was sat on his legs, looked up and saw Juke and his gang, a maniac light on their eyes. "Well, well… What do we have here? Are those bugs? I love playing with bugs! Girls always scream when they see one. Sissy."

Sherlock ignored him and kept collecting the vermin. 'A ladybug. Perhaps I can give it to mum. She would be pleased.' Lost on his thoughts, the small boy didn't notice one of the bullies' forthcoming and kicking him on his ribs. Sherlock felt all the air leaving his body. When the aggressor stopped, he opened the mouth the most he could to breath and tried to calm down. 'Control. Control. Don't lose track.'

"Tell me Holmes. Were you like this on your previous school? Were you?!" Juke screamed at him, making Sherlock flinch. "Ups. Don't cry, my big baby. What's that? Are you calling daddy? You know he's not coming."

"You're wrong."

The older boys jolted at the deep sound. They turned around and became afflicted when they saw a tall man blocking their way of escape. Sherlock, curled up on the ground, closed his eyes and sighted relieved. When Juke first approached him, he managed to sneak the mobile of his coat pocket and text his father. Right in time.

"I'm just going to ask once. What were you doing to my _son_?" William lowered his voice while saying son. The friendly man Sherlock knew his father to be was no longer there. Nothing was.

"That…That's your son? I… I didn't… We're leaving." Juke made question to depart, but the grown man gripped his large hand around the leader of the group's neck. The boy squirmed in pain. The others, seeming too afraid to help Juke escaping the man's tight grasp, ran away.

"If I ever find out that any of you laid a _finger_ on my kid again, I swear I'll find you and I'll make you see what hell does look like. Are we understood?" William left Juke fall to the ground with a thump. "ARE. WE. UNDERSTOOD?!" The boy nodded and ran way.

"Sherlock, are you ok?" With a worried voice, Holmes knelt next to his child, putting a hand on his head, rubbing the soft dark curls he loved so much. Receiving a low moan, the father aid is son to get up. Sherlock wiped his eyes, extremely red because of the cry and hugged his dad.

"Don't worry. From now on, this can't get worse."

How wrong William Holmes senior was.

**One Year Later…**

Mycroft was pushing his father's wheelchair. Sherlock and Éloise walked side by side slowly, behind Mycroft.

Less than one month after William's 'incident' with Sherlock's bullies, he received numerous charges. The parents of the boys resorted to the court and bribed the judge. The senior Holmes was sent to jail accused of stabbing and possible murder of three kids. Only seven months later he was allowed to leave. Mrs. Holmes worked hard with Mycroft to find evidence that he didn't anything he was accused of.

The family was ready to take him home when they were told William was in coma. A group of prisoners set up a trap and he was the main attraction.

Holmes senior stayed in coma for several weeks. During that time, Sherlock left his father's side the less possible. He would go to school twice a week, eat the minimum and sleep an hour or two. Mycroft and Éloise tried their best to change his mind, failing miserably. Guilt. All of this. Guilt.

When his father woke up for the first time, doctors were able to run a small exam to determine if William Holmes had some major injuries. It turned out that it was even worse than they had previously thought of. He had traumatic brain injury. With further exams, the doctor in charge of William, Dr. Lloyd, told Mrs. Holmes the consequences of TBI which were affecting him: loss of mobility, convulsions and loss of memory. Sherlock heard it all.

"How much does he not remember?" The boy addressed to Dr. Lloyd with small voice. Both the adults swallowed hard.

"It's hard to say, little guy." Éloise soundless thanked the doctor.

"HOW MUCH?!" Sherlock yelled, tears not stopping falling down. "I need to know. Please." Mrs. Holmes heart broke in two. Her eight-year-old child, happy, giggling all the time and loved by everyone who knew him for real, was now sobbing.

"Nothing since Mycroft was born."

* * *

Years passed by. Every day, Sherlock would wake up and ask his dad if he remembered him. Every day he would receive the same answer – "no".

Mycroft started working on the government, his visits becoming less and less frequent, leaving Mrs. Holmes and Sherlock take care of Mr. Holmes, Éloise giving up on his job to take care of her husband 24 hours per day. Without her salary, she fired all the maids but two. The couple was part of the family, and you never leave family behind. In the future, Mycroft would be the one sustaining the Holmes, but in the first years of job, he could barely sustain himself.

One day, Sherlock gave up. He could not bring his father back. The man standing in front of him was just a shadow of the brilliant man he once was proud of calling 'dad'. He promised himself he would never let anyone hurt him. Sherlock became distant, cold and merciless. If he was the most hated person in the school because of his cleverness, he was now wanted dead by all the people surrounding him. Not that it minded the genius boy. Of course, he still loved his mum, his dad and the two servants left (more like grandparents to him). Sherlock was not sure about Mycroft. Sometimes he just wanted to hug him, feel the warmth irradiated from his body, feel secure. Other times he just wanted to slap his face and burn him to death. Sherlock concluded he wasn't sure how he felt about his brother.

The years kept passing by, Sherlock a grown man now, never forgetting of the father he once used to have and used to love him like no one (apart from his mother). Although he didn't show the feeling as strongly as he used to, Sherlock still cared and loved his dad a lot. Every time he thought of him, he would remember all the good times they spend together, just the two of them. That's why it hurt him so much when Mycroft told him their dad passed away.


	11. I'll Never Forget You - Part 1

**The part one of this chapter is the last one with angst (for now...). Next part the fun'll return. Yes, that's for you CJcraziness.  
**

**Music: Time - Hans Zimmer**

**Disclaimer: Guess who owns Sherlock now! NOT ME!**

**A Week Later…**

**12:30 AM (Living Room)**

John walked out of the kitchen with a hot cup of tea on his hand. For a week, the TV team was forbidden to film Sherlock and any of his family and friends. At this moment, the cameras were already in the flat filming. However, no one talked, the silence hanging in the air.

John looked at Sherlock's sleeping form on the couch. The detective was sleeping peacefully after sleepless nights. The day Mycroft told his brother their father had died was terrible. Sherlock cried, screamed and John felt helpless, not being able to do anything to aid his suffering friend. The young man fell asleep on the armchair five hours later.

Despite the anguish he was feeling for Sherlock, John never found himself more proud of the dark-haired man.

Four days ago was the funeral of William Holmes senior.

The entire Holmes family was there. Sherlock, Mycroft and Éloise (obviously) and more distant relatives and friends. John stood closely to Mrs. Holmes at the entrance of the mortuary, giving handshakes and thanking the presence of people he never saw in his life. Cousins, nephews, all of them stepped close to the cold body of William, giving their goodbyes. Sherlock remained in the back of the room the entire time. Most of the relatives tried to get close, give him their condolences. He shooed them right away.

An hour later the hearse arrived, two men jumping out of it and getting in the mortuary. They asked for permission to take the coffin. Éloise nodded slowly. People started walking in direction of the car park. Sherlock put an arm around his mum's neck and hugged her tightly. She started sobbing, tears falling on the expensive coat of his son.

"Let's go mum. The morticians are waiting."

"Ugh. Morticians. Is such an ugly word." She cleaned her face with a handkerchief. Sherlock gave Éloise a small smile.

"Indeed."

John and Mycroft walked on their direction. "Ready to go?". The blond received no answer. Sherlock sat close to the car window on the left, his brother on the right and his mother in the middle. John didn't go with them, but with Mrs. Hudson.

The car travel seemed never-ending. Every now and then Sherlock would sigh, staring at the world passing outside. When the hearse stopped at a traffic light, he noticed a little boy and his father entering a pet shop. Inside, he saw the kid pointing at a Golden Retriever. The adult gave a hand full of money to the shop assistant and took the dog. Sherlock noticed how huge the smile on the boy's face was. The car set off and they arrived at the cemetery.

Time passed, the priest ignored by everyone. "Now, Mr. Holmes has some words he wishes to say."

Mycroft got up. He moved next to the priest, occupying his place and gave a beautiful discourse. Éloise began to cry once more, her hands gripping Sherlock's hard. The detective put his chin on the head of his mother, humming silently a song. Mycroft finished and the priest called another person "Mr. Holmes, the younger, also has some words to say."

Mrs. Holmes put herself right and encouraged her son by pushing him slightly. Sherlock climbed the pedestal and coughed. He looked up and observed everyone. He looked down at the paper on his hand and looked up again. The people once silent now whispered to the closest. Sherlock bit his lip. "I'm sorry, I can't do this." The young Holmes run away from there the fastest he could.

"Sherlock!" John tried to chase after him, but he lost the detective of sight minutes later.

"He escaped?" The doctor jolted from the low voice of Mycroft.

"Jeez, where did you come from?"

"You didn't give a response."

"I don't have to, do I?"

None of them spoke anymore.

The funeral reached his end. People left, leaving Mrs. Holmes, Mycroft, John, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade alone. "Time to go home, mum."

"Yes. I'm so tired." The Holmes were about to go when John interrupted them. "What about Sherlock? I tried to call him. His phone is turned off."

"You know him, John. Probably he's wandering around, cleaning up his mind a bit." Lestrade moved ahead. "Mycroft, I need to talk to you. If Mrs. Holmes wishes so, I can take you home."

"That's very nice of you, and I appreciate it. But I rather take a cab with Martha. You have your time with Mike." Mrs. Hudson came over with a purse over her right shoulder. "Shall we?" Éloise leaned to left so the old lady could pass. Giving a short smile, they left.

"We'd better be off too. Good afternoon John. Call us when you find him."

John was alone now. Having no idea where Sherlock could possibly be, he took a walk around the cemetery. He saw a woman putting flowers on the grave of her possible husband. He saw the outstanding dark soil relatively to the light green grass, meaning someone also died quite recently. 'Poor guy' he thought.

He kept walking. He stopped walking. He watched sad families. He immediately regretted.

John finished his walk when he approached the grave of Mr. Holmes. He eyed a tall man next to it. The messy hair was recognizable miles away. Sherlock. He went step by step, quietly, hiding behind a tree, close enough to hear the detective. He was _talking _to his dad.

"Hi dad." He gave a laugh. "I can't believe I'm actually doing this. John told me that talking to my grave helped him. He thought I didn't hear him, but I did. I always do. It's something we hav… we _used _to have in common. Hum… When I gave up on you, I… I had to repeat myself it was the best for me and for you. I didn't want to think that the good times we spent together were over, just like that. I kept remembering the night you brought Redbeard home, my loyal Redbeard; I kept remembering the day you taught me how to play chess; I kept remembering when I barely knew how to ride a bike and you pushed me of the top of the street, me ending with a broken arm; I kept remembering when you took me with you on your air balloon and we made a voyage around the globe; I kept remembering when we used to pretend we were pirates and Mycroft was the terrible Kraken; I kept remembering when you burped the alphabet at dinner and I laughed so much that pasta got off of my nose… There are so many more stories…" Sherlock sighed, lowering his head, the voice becoming less than a whisper "There's a saying: with time, everything heals. Since you left the hospital, I believed blindly on that. Though, as we both know, that didn't happen. Mum prayed to God. Mum! She's a science's woman and yet, she prayed to God. I did it once or twice. Not worth it." Sherlock paused for a while. He clenched and unclenched his hands. "God isn't real." A tear rolled down his cheek. "He isn't. I asked him to help you. Just one thing. To HELP you! He never helped me. Because of HIM, I had to text you and you went to jail, almost died and… and…" Tears swamped his face "I felt like you actually died. You didn't remember me…" A long pause "For years I blamed myself for what happened to you. I still do. I blamed myself for _leaving _you. I won't anymore." Sherlock looked up and gave a small smile. "If I didn't, I would not have met John. Lestrade. Molly. Mrs. Hudson. They are my _friends_. And I'm so happy I met them. I would do anything for them. They wrecked my walls. But I'll never admit it to them! To anyone! I'd rather die than tell it out loud for everyone to hear. Maybe, one day, I will. Who knows? I'm different dad. I'm finally moving on. But I promise, I'll never forget you.


	12. Otters, Hedgehogs and Foxes - Part 2

**Wow! More than a thousand views! Thank you so much! I really am having fun writing this story. Cjcraziness, here's the so expected chapter, hope you like it. Do not forget to review and criticism is also wanted! **

**Music: Aura Dione - Geronimo**

**Disclaimer: I think I'll just burn my letters to Moffat and Gatiss and Benedict and Martin and...**

John, fetch me your gun. – **SH**

No. – **JW**

John, fetch me your gun now. – **SH**

No. – **JW**

John, fetch me your gun now, please. – **SH**

No. – **JW**

I think we don't speak the same language. – **SH**

Unfortunately, we do. – **JW**

I'll get it myself. – **SH**

Just try. – **JW**

I'm leaving my bedroom… – **SH**

Ok. - **JW**

I'm passing the kitchen… - **SH**

Good for you. – **JW**

I'm climbing the stairs… - **SH**

Don't stumble. – **JW**

I picking the lock of your bedroom's door… - **SH**

I can hear it. – **JW**

I'm coming in… - **SH**

Ups. – **SH**

I'm closing the door… – **SH**

Yes, you are. – **JW**

I'm climbing down the stairs… – **SH**

Down you go. – **JW**

I'm passing the kitchen again… - **SH**

Careful not to fall. The pavement is wet. Mrs. Hudson texted me saying she dropped water a few minutes ago. – **JW**

Too late. My pants are soaked. – **SH**

YOU FELL! – **JW**

Stating the obvious. You're retrogressing, John. – **SH**

At least my butt is wet! Ah ah! – **JW**

Very mature… - **SH**

Someone needs to be the adult. – **JW**

Certainly not you. – **SH**

Nor you. – **JW**

As you wish. I must say, I wasn't expecting to see you pointing the gun at me in your bedroom. – **SH**

I'm always a step ahead. – **JW**

I can hear you laughing downstairs. Stop it. – **JW**

STOP IT! – **JW**

You finish? – **JW**

Yes. – **SH**

You happy? – **JW**

Yes. – **SH**

Good. Go get some sleep. – **JW**

Yes, Captain. – **SH**

* * *

Sherlock's smiling again. – **JW**

Those are good news. Great job, Dr. Watson. – **MH**

You are _eulogizing _me? – **JW**

I won't repeat myself. – **MH**

It feels like is worth living in this world, after all. :-P – **JW**

Very funny. – **MH**

Hei, do you wanna visit us tomorrow? - **JW**

*want to, I mean. – **JW**

Why would I do that? – **MH**

Despite everything he says, Sherlock likes you around. – **JW**

John, Mycroft can't stop laughing. – **GL**

Greg?! – **JW**

HE CAN'T BREATH! WHAT DO I DO?! - **GL**

I know a couple of things. O :-) – **JW**

Meaning… - **GL**

**:-* - JW**

I don't know… - **GL**

Just do it. – **JW**

What if he doesn't want? – **GL**

For God's sake! DO IT ALREADY! – **SH**

Thank you, Sherlock. – **JW**

Taking their time… - **JW**

Are they breathing? – **JW**

Love's beautiful… - **JW**

Go Greg! – **JW**

Visit you tomorrow? I'll consider it. – **MH**

Taking deep breaths, aren't you dear brother? – **SH**

Do I really need to go? – **MH**

No. – **SH**

Yes! – **JW**

Yes! – **GL**

Deal then. Tomorrow afternoon. – **JW**

Tomorrow afternoon. – **GL**

Shall we invite the girls too? – **JW**

What girls? – **GL**

Molly… - **JW**

Not Molly! – **SH**

Mrs. Hudson… - **JW**

Even if she is not invited, she'll come anyway. – **SH**

Éloise… - **JW**

It's Mrs. Holmes for you. – **SH**

Your mother told me to call her by name, not surname. – **JW**

She did? – **SH**

Yes. – **JW**

Mum always said I couldn't call her Éloise. Always mum or mother. – **SH**

That's because you are her son. - **JW**

Yeah, she also said something like that. – **SH**

Let it be a 'boy's night'. – **GL**

Great idea! – **JW**

I don't agree. – **SH**

You never agree with anything. – **GL**

Don't I? – **SH**

No. – **JW**

You're supposed to be on my side, John. – **SH**

I'm neutral. – **JW**

Whatever. – **SH**

* * *

John. – **GL**

Yeah? – **JW**

Is Sherlock asleep? – **GL**

Don't know. Let me check. – **JW**

Deep asleep. – **JW**

Great. I'm sending you a picture. Check it out! – **GL**

OH MY F****** GOD! – **JW**

I KNOW! – **GL**

AN OTTER?! – **JW**

I KNOW! – **GL**

Who made this? – **JW**

I DON'T KNOW! – **GL**

Who took the pictures of Sherlock? – **JW**

I couldn't care less. – **GL**

No, listen this is serious. Someone has been taking photos of Sherlock. Who? – **JW**

Perhaps the ALL ENGLAND! – **GL**

True… - **JW**

Do you have more? ~X-D – **JW**

No, but check the Internet. There is one yours! – **GL**

MINE?! – **JW**

Yes, you and a hedgehog. - **GL**

Oh, so that's why they called me hedgehog in the shopping centre. – **JW**

I LOVE THE INTERNET! – **GL**

FOUND ONE OF YOU! – **JW**

WHAT ANIMAL?! – **GL**

A FOX! – **JW**

A fox? – **GL**

Yeah. – **JW**

A freaking fox? – **GL**

What 'bout it? – **JW**

Why do I have to be a fox? – **GL**

No idea. – **JW**

From all the animals in the world, I have to be a fox! – **GL**

They're pretty. – **JW**

You already have Sherlock. If you jump on Greg again, I'll kill you! – **MH**

I didn't 'jump' on Greg! – **JW**

It sounded like that. – **GL**

I HATE YOU ALL! – **JW**

We were kidding… - **GL**

Was I? - **MH**

**Please, please, if anyone wants to review, don't be in the darkness! I like to answer to them and I can't because it's from someone anonymous. Do not forget to log in and only then leave a review. Though, if you don't have an account, I understand. Until a month ago I was just the same... **


	13. Boy's Games - Part 1

**I know, I know, I'm a terrible person... SORRY BUT NOT SORRY! Just kidding, I'm really sorry for the delay. Lack of inspiration. Still a problem for chapter 6. It's so hard to write deductions which seem plausible (at least for Sherlock). This plus holidays in a place without internet and cable TV, awful! Back home, more time to write (probably, who knows...), and again, apologies. Don't forget to review and comment!**

**Musics: Why don't you try to guess? Have fun!**

**01:00 PM (Kitchen)**

"Afternoon! Are we late?" Lestrade entered the flat, putting several plastic bags on the kitchen table. John and Sherlock jumped on their seats when the bags hit the table with a large thump. "Sorry. Am I interrupting?" He only then noticed the duo was having lunch.

"No. You came just in time. Where's Mycroft?" John cleaned his mouth with a napkin and shook hands with Lestrade. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you. Mycroft is coming, I think. He was having some trouble bringing the rest of the staff upstairs."

"Wait a sec! Mycroft's doing legwork? I gotta see that!" Swallowing the rest of the apple's juice, Sherlock ran to the living room. "Where's my phone?" One of the TV members pointed at the skull on the mantelpiece. "Thank you, whatever your name is."

"It's Charlie."

"Don't care." Sherlock picked up the mobile, a false smile covering his face.

"Mr. Watson always complains about me."

"Oh! Yeah! You're the one who keeps calling him the wrong thing." The detective approached the young man, their faces inches away. "It's _Dr. _Watson. Not _Mr. _Watson. We understood?"

"Ye… Yes." Sherlock backed away, disappearing on the stairs. John's hand found its way to his face. In turn, Lestrade shook his head, arms crossed over his chest. The cameras turned to the hall of stairs when a huge laugh was heard.

"Look at you! You're sweating more than anyone would while running a marathon! This is _so _going to Youtube. I can see the name of the video 'Fat British Government: Trouble with House Chores." A pause. Mycroft looked at him, his usual cold stare gone, replaced by a suffering one. "I'll think in a better one. God, this is so precious."

"Sherlock, if you post the video on that Youtube thing, you'll go to jail." The eldest Holmes settled the bags on the bottom of the stairs, grabbing his wet handkerchief.

"You serious? Like I give a damn." The dark-haired man took his eyes from the camera phone, looking directly at his brother. "Keep moving. There's only a sixteen step distance between you and Lestrade. Remember John's there? He told me about that 'jumping' move."

"GET AWAY FROM HIM! GREG, I'M COMING!" Mycroft grabbed the bags and climbed the stairs the fastest he ever did in his lifetime.

"Greg? Wasn't it Gavin?" Suddenly left alone, Sherlock shrugged and prepared himself for the 'fun'.

**01:30 AM (Living Room)**

"Are you still doing digestion?"

"Yes."

"What about now?"

"Greg, for the last time, it only passed half an hour. It takes THREE hours."

"Ok."

"Just because we can't play Twister, it doesn't mean we cannot play another thing. What else you got?" John moved close to the Inspector, trying to see what was in the bags. However, Lestrade wouldn't let anyone but Mycroft see. 'It's a surprise' he'd say. An evil smile appeared on his face.

"Tell me, Sherlock. Do you know what RPG is?" The detective sighed and gave a bit to a biscuit the DI brought.

* * *

**RPG**

"The Glorious Team walks straight up to an abandon castle. You try to open the door, but it's locked. What do you do?"

"I'll turn around and leave."

"Sherlock!" Greg shot John a harsh glare. "I mean, Blue Wizard! You _must _stay with us. You're the only one who can pick the lock of the door. _Please_."

"Why doesn't the Troll knock it down? He's MASSIVE after all." Sherlock pointed at his brother and throw his arms far away from each other. A huff was heard.

"It's not my fault! It was the only character left! I preferred to be the narrator." Mycroft tilted his upper body in direction of Sherlock, whose tongue was stretched out of his mouth. "Oh no! I'm so scared! What are you going to do? Spit all over me?"

"You wanna play?! Let's play." Sherlock rolled the dice, smiling at the number.

"Yes! I, Blue Wizard, use my powers to create a storm. Bolts are forming! Ah! One hits the Troll right in the head! Muahah!"

"That's how you want to play? I shall not disappoint you." Mycroft also rolled the dice.

"Actually, I, the Troll, am not hit by the lightning! With the magic armour of the beloved princess Ursula, I riposte the thunder to the end of Earth! After that, I call my family of trolls and all of them start attacking the Blue Wizard!" Mycroft ends his epiphany, drinking a sip of water. Sherlock furred his eye brows, thinking deeply. This time, he didn't roll the dice.

"I, Blue Wizard, don't run away! I keep on the exact place where I was. I wait for the trolls. When they get too close, a net coming from the ground imprisons them all. I point my wand at the net. A flash of light comes out it! Every single one dies _burnt and crisp_." Sherlock looks up, imagining the entire scene with great enthusiasm.

"But I'm not given to family compassion! So I take the sword of the Knight John and attack the Blue Wizard!" Mycroft joined the hands together, pretending to agitate a blade.

"I dodge all the attacks, because I am a secret ninja!" Sherlock stood up with a jump, moving slowly around the room, lowered. Lestrade looked rather confused. He got a sheet in the middle of the thousands he had and read it.

"Hmm… Sorry Sherlock, but you didn't write anything about being a ninja in your background. In matter fact, you just wrote 'The only Blue Wizard in the world working with a fucking Troll.'

"So what? Just because I'm a sorcerer I can't be a ninja?"

"Exactly" Greg nodded and John joined him. "If you're going to play, you play by the rules."

"That's not fair!"

"It means I won!" Mycroft got on his feet and laugh at Sherlock.

"Hell no! I, Blue Wizard, cast a spell at the Troll! He gets smaller and smaller and then I step on him!"

"I, the Troll, use a potion another princess gave to me and get bigger than the Wizard! I punch him over and over!"

"But then I cast a spell on myself! I get even bigger than the Troll! I kick him in the ass to the moon!"

"I get in a spaceship and make in land on you!"

"STOP!" The brothers ceased their discussion and faced the Inspector and the doctor, who shouted together at them. Both had a very angry look on the faces. Greg got closer to Sherlock and told him to go eat some biscuits he brought while changing the game. John instead moved toward Mycroft and whispered close to his ear.

"If you ever stole my sword again, you'll regret it."

**Karaoke (Sort of…)**

Sherlock came from the kitchen, sitting on the couch next to John. Lestrade and Mycroft were setting the next games structure. John hoped this time things wouldn't get so far.

"So, I have this idea. It's a sort of karaoke, but it's not karaoke." Greg passed his fingers through his rough hair. "One of us chooses a part of song and another one sings it. Those who don't sing or choose the song are going to try to find out what the song's name is and what the band that plays it is."

"That sounds great. The problem is that these two here" John pointed at the Holmes brothers "barely know a popular music, much less know how to sing it."

"I'm not taking that as an offense."

"You better not, Sherlock."

"But there is no problem! The singer will be listening to the music instrumental through earphones and will be the only one reading the lyrics!" Lestrade cheered up and clasped his hands together. John also did it. "So, who's first?"

* * *

Greg was the first. John was the one who chose the song. That means it were Sherlock and Mycroft who had to find out the artist and the song's name. Lestrade put the earphones and grabbed the microphone. The Holmes sat behind the TV while John was next to the Inspector. Trying not to look embarrassed, the DI observed the music John picked. He just could be fucking kidding him…

_Big blue eyes, _

_pointy nose,_

_chasing mice,_

_and digging holes._

_Tiny paws,_

_up the hill,_

_suddenly_

_you're standing still._

_Your fur is red,_

_so beautiful,_

_like an angel in disguise._

_But if you meet_

_a friendly horse,_

_will you communicate by mo-o-o-o-orse, mo-o-o-o-orse, mo-o-o-o-orse?_

_How will you speak to that h-o-o-orse, h-o-o-orse h-o-o-orse?_

_WHAT DOES THE FOX SAY?!_

_Jacha-chacha-chacha-chow!_

_Jacha-chacha-chacha-chow!_

_Jacha-chacha-chacha-chow!_

_WHAT DOES THE FOX SAY?_

_Fraka-kaka-kaka-kaka-kow!_

_Fraka-kaka-kaka-kaka-kow!_

_Fraka-kaka-kaka-kaka-kow!_

_WHAT DOES THE FOX SAY?_

_A-hee-ahee ha-hee!_

_A-hee-ahee ha-hee!_

_A-hee-ahee ha-hee!_

_WHAT DOES THE FOX SAY?_

_A-oo-oo-oo-ooo!_

_A-oo-oo-oo-ooo!_

_WHAT DOES THE FOX SAY?!_

The part of the song John chose reached its end. Greg stopped singing and looked hopefully at Sherlock and Mycroft. However, all the hope vanished as soon as he saw the mouths gaped and eyes widen. John started laughing and fell from the couch. "Oh, come on! It wasn't that bad! Mycroft, who sings the song?" Lestrade gave a smirk.

"I don't know. A dying cat?" John laughed louder, his hands on his stomach.

"Please! Stop! I can't hold too much longer!" The cameras were all pointed at him. Best episode ever.

"Hold what? It's your fault! You picked this song because of what I texted you yesterday!"

"GOD! I CAN'T ANYMORE!" John crawled to the kitchen, pouring water in a glass. Sherlock seemed to wake up from the trance on that moment. He got the remote and gave it to Lestrade. Picking it, the DI observed as the young man got the microphone.

"I'm next."

* * *

When John came back, everyone was waiting for him. He looked astonished at Sherlock, seeing that he was next. The doctor sat next to Mycroft and waited for the show to begin. Man, that was a hell of a show.

_Don't do love, don't do friends_

_I'm only after success_

_Don't need a relationship_

_I'll never soften my grip_

_Don't want cash, don't want car_

_Want it fast, want it hard_

_Don't need money, don't need fame_

_I just want to make a change_

_I just wanna change_

_I just wanna change_

_I just wanna change_

_I just wanna change_

_I just wanna change_

_I know exactly what I want and who I want to be_

_I know exactly why I walk and talk like a machine_

_I'm now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy_

_Oh, oh no, oh no, oh no_

_One track mind, one track heart_

_If I fail, I'll fall apart_

_Maybe it is all a test_

_'Cause I feel like I'm the worst_

_So I always act like I'm the best_

_If you are not very careful_

_Your possessions will possess you_

_TV taught me how to feel_

_Now real life has no appeal_

_It has no appeal_

_It has no appeal_

_It has no appeal_

_It has no appeal_

_It has no appeal_

Once again, the song ended and this time there was no laughing, just silence. Everyone was shocked. If they thought Sherlock was a good musician, he was a thousand times better singer! That deep voice mixed with the music notes was something special. Lestrade got up and clapped. Suddenly, the rest of the people (including TV team) did the same and whistle. As every good artist, Sherlock bowed, a wide smile plastered on the face. In the end, no one said who was the artist or the name. He passed the mike to Mycroft, whishing good luck. He was the one who was going to choose the song. It was going to be anything but priceless…

* * *

As soon as he started reading the lyrics, Mycroft sighed. Sherlock was gonna pay.

_Talk to corporate (like a boss)_

_Approve memos (like a boss)_

_Lead a workshop (like a boss)_

_Remember birthdays (like a boss)_

_Direct workflow (like a boss)_

_My own bathroom (like a boss)_

_Micromanage (like a boss)_

_Promote Synergy (like a boss)_

_Hit on Debra (like a boss)_

_Get rejected (like a boss)_

_Sallow sadness (like a boss)_

_Send some faxes (like a boss)_

_Call a sex line (like a boss)_

_Cry deeply (like a boss)_

_Demand a refund (like a boss)_

_Eat a bagel (like a boss)_

_Harrassment lawsuit (like a boss)_

_No promotion (like a boss)_

_Fifth of vodka (like a boss)_

_Shit on Debra's desk (like a boss)_

_Buy a gun (like a boss)_

_In my mouth (like a boss)_

Mycroft finished the song, Sherlock showing his teeth with a big smile. Moving closer, the dark-haired man grabbed his brother's shoulders, shaking them slightly. The smile grew more. "If you want, I can give an end to the music. The 'boss' ends up dea-" Mycroft put a hand on Sherlock's mouth, pushing the young man far away from him. Though, he turned again at his little brother and gave him a maleficent grin. He picked the remote and aimed at the TV.

"You made a great mistake, dear brother. Now, John Watson will have to truckle to the consequences." John began to sweat. Cursing Sherlock, he faced the naked true. It was his turn.

* * *

The doctor put the earphones on. He then took the microphone from the flatmate and stared at the TV. There was _no way _it could be happening to him. The reputation of an era would suddenly be reduced to nothing more but ashes. Although he knew the song was describing him, John also knew people would not see it that way. It was going to look like he was jumping on Sherlock this time.

_Superstar, where you from? How's it going?_

_I know you, got a clue, what you're doing_

_You can play brand new to all the other chicks out here_

_But I know what you are, what you are, baby_

_Look at you, gettin' more than just a re-up_

_Baby you, got all the puppets with their strings up_

_Fakin' like a good one, but I call 'em like I see 'em_

_I know what you are, what you are, baby_

_Womanizer, woman-womanizer, you're a womanizer_

_Oh, womanizer, oh, you're a womanizer, baby_

_You, you, you are. You, you, you are_

_Womanizer, womanizer, womanizer (Womanizer)_

_Boy, don't try to front_

_I, I know just-just what you are, are, are_

_Boy, don't try to front_

_I, I know just-just what you are, are, are_

_(You) You got me going_

_(You) You're oh so charming_

_(You) But I can't do it_

_(You) You womanizer_

_Boy, don't try to front_

_I, I know just-just what you are, are, are_

_Boy, don't try to front_

_I, I know just-just what you are, are, are_

_(You) You say I'm crazy_

_(You) I got you crazy_

_(You) You're nothing but a_

_(You) Womanizer_

_Daddy-O, you got the swagger of a champion_

_Too bad for you, you just can't find the right companion_

_I guess when you have one too many, makes it hard, it could be easy_

_Who you are, that's just who you are, baby_

_Lollipop, must mistake me you're the sucker_

_To think that I, would be a victim not another_

_Say it, play it how you want it_

_But no way I'm never gonna fall for you, never you, baby_

_Womanizer, woman-womanizer, you're a womanizer_

_Oh, womanizer, oh, you're a womanizer, baby_

_You, you, you are. You, you, you are_

_Womanizer, womanizer, womanizer (Womanizer)_

None of the reactions in the room was the same. Mycroft got his revenge and he made no question in hiding so. All his body was clearly showing how enjoyable the situation has been. Lestrade couldn't decide he should be on his lover's side or John's. Sherlock was so red it was extraordinary he hadn't melted yet. The TV people had all sorts of responses. But any of them was as good as the blogger's. His face was a complete mixture of colours.

"Perhaps we should change game?" Lestrade got up and reached for the bags for the third time. And it was still three…

**Battleship**

"Well, as we are four and the game is just for two, we'll take turns." The DI placed the game on the coffee table in the middle of the room. The group sat on the floor, the table small enough so they could be sat on the old fuzzy rug. "You all know the rules. Take down all the opponent's ships. I bet I'll regret it but who wants to play first?" Both brothers raised their hands at the same time. John pinched his nose.

"If you knew, why ask it in the same?"

Sherlock pulled the game closer to him, so he could place the ships. Mycroft sat across the younger Holmes and waited for him to finish putting the watercrafts. The detective only allowed his sibling to do it after him because he knew Mycroft was not a cheater. Many people would do this so they could take a glance at the other's strategy, but not him. Why would he? If he did so, there would be no fun beating Sherlock. When everything was ready, Mycroft made the first move.

"C3."

"Water. E5."

"Water. G4" Sherlock's hand was already grabbing a red piece when he listened to what his brother said. That was not right.

"_What_?"

"Water again? I really hate this game." Mycroft stretched an arm to get a white piece. He was debating with the hole where the piece should be put when Sherlock shout at him. The piece fell of his hand and the elder brother gave a disapproval look to the younger one. "Yes, it's my fault. What did I do this time?"

"First of all, I didn't say 'water' but 'what'. Second of all, you sharper!"

"Who, me?" Mycroft actually sounded and looked offended. "Why?"

"You're lying! I am damn sure I hit your freaking ship!"

"Oi! You know I do not cheat!"

"Not sure anymore!"

"You missed! You did not hit my ship!"

"Oh really?!" Sherlock got up and bended over so he could check Mycroft's game board. He couldn't believe his eyes. He missed completely! The closest ship was three lines above the spot he 'shot a missile'. Of course, Sherlock being Sherlock would not allow people to see him failing miserably and let his brother give him a see-I-told-you look. He would be dead before that happens. So he did what any person would do in a situation like this. Especially if that person's age is around eight years. He took one of Mycroft's watercrafts and placed it on the E5 hole. Sherlock shook his arms up and down once in front of his sibling's face "BOOM!" He then kicked the board of the table, the game flying through the living room and landing on the fireplace. "I want more biscuits. Anyone wants some too?"

**Detective**

Sherlock came from the kitchen with a plate full of almonds biscuits. He handed them to John, who declined. Shrugging, he buried on the brown leather couch, biting another one. Lestrade, already fuming from his ears, got a deck of cards, separating the ace of spades, the king of spades, the queen of hearts and the eight of hearts. He put the rest of the cards back in the box and shuffled the remaining ones. While he did it, Greg tried to explain in what the game consisted in. "This is a game I learned when I was little an-."

"BORING! Skipping to the part where you explain the rules…" Sherlock interrupted the inspector, the biscuits still on his hands and crumbs all over his clothes.

"I was getting there! Well, the ace is the thief, the king is the cop, the queen is the lady kisser and the eight is the victim. If you have the ace, you wink at anyone you want to 'kill'. Careful, if you wink at the cop you get arrested and the game's over; if you are the cop you need to find out who's the thief. In case the ace kills the queen and the eight before you can arrest him, the game's over; if you have the queen, you have to resurrect the victim, throwing a kiss toward him, but you can't revive the thief, no pouting Sherlock, nor the cop; and if you are the victim, you just stay there, waiting for the ace to kill you."

"Hold on. The ace shouldn't be a _murder_? He doesn't rob anything."

"Sherlock, the ace is a burglar. Period."

"But it's wrong an-"

"Shall we begin?"

Lestrade gave a card to each one and the men observed their cards. John was the cop, Greg the thief, Mycroft the victim and Sherlock… Sherlock was the lady kisser. Barely restraining his displeasure, the detective put his card down, not showing the front of it. The four men started looking at one another, Mycroft and Sherlock clearly knowing who was who. Apparently, the other two knew it too. Greg twinkled at Mycroft. The Holmes also put the card on the floor, displaying unnecessarily at everyone his card. The DI and the John blinked their eyes slowly at Sherlock, waiting for him to make a move.

"No way." He crossed his arms over his chest and closed the eyes. If he couldn't see them, they couldn't force him. Wrong Sherlock…

They pinched his arms and legs. Not working. Both thinking the same, they moved closer and closer. Time for the secret weapon. The grown men started to tickle Sherlock, the younger one breaking into a fit of laugher. How could it be possible so nice people being so bad people also? Feeling it was harder and harder to breath and finally remembering cameras were filming all of his moves, Sherlock gave up, and sent a small brief kiss to his brother through the air.

"Next game?"

**Domino**

It ended up with the pieces thrown out of the window, a _closed _and now broken window.

Mrs. Hudson threatened to increase the rent, again.

**Chess**

Holmes winners. John and Lestrade defeated. Cliché.

Three paws missing. A king without a crown. Two towers which are ruins now.

**Twister**

The so expected game.

Pure disaster.

**The Royal Game of Goose**

Only two hours after Sherlock eating a plate full of biscuits, John understood the food was drugged with amphetamines. Thence the detective being so out of himself. And so was the doctor. He whispered angrily at Lestrade, so that the cameras couldn't listen to them. The DI said it was for Sherlock to loosen up a bit. It would have been a bit if he didn't have eaten all of the biscuits.

John eventually congratulated Greg for what he did. Between mad Sherlock and sassy Sherlock, there was no doubt in which one to choose. Or so he thought so. By the end of the game, with the younger man's complete failure, perhaps a mad and not-so-bustling detective would have been a good an idea.

**Stop**

The TV team played it.

The four men completely exhausted, fell asleep fifteen minutes before. Mycroft and Greg were cuddled with each other on the big couch. John was snoring on his armchair, head resting on the cushion with the Union Jack. Sherlock was also sleeping on his black armchair, a huge grin on his face.

**I had so much fun writing this chapter! Perhaps I'll write another one similar to this one, there are so many games! Any suggestions? I wanna hear everyone, even you, there in the darkness. **

**What about the songs? Got them right? Here's the list:**

**-Ylvis - What Does the Fox Say?**

**-Oh No! - Marina and the Diamonds**

**-Like a Boss (ft. Seth Rogen) - Thelonelyisland**

**-Womanizer - Britney Spears**

**Advice: read again while the music's on. Double fun! **

**Once again, I'm very, very sorrry. Hope this chapter compensates the delay. I think it is the biggest chapter so far!**


	14. The Best Cure for Withdrawal - Part 2

**Hello people! Happy? You just had to wait for a week. Well, I have to apologize for the OOC situation on the previous chapter, I wrote it on a rush. If any of you have an idea of how I could make Sherlock and the rest of them more "in character", I would appreciate if you told me. **

**Hummm... Don't forget to review and comment.**

**Music: Sia - Chandelier (Dustin Que Remix)**

**Disclaimer: _[I do not own Sherlock]_ copy 'n past 100x.**

Where are you? – **JW**

Mycroft and I left an hour or so. You were still asleep. – **GL**

You could have awakened me. – **JW**

No. I needed you still so I could take a photo of you slavering on the cushion. :-D – **GL**

If you show that to anyone, I swear I'll tell everyone you drugged Sherlock. – **JW**

Bit not good for my reputation. – **GL**

Yeah. – **JW**

Ok, I'll delete it. – **GL**

Very good. – **JW**

* * *

John, my stomach hurts a lot. And I can't sleep! – **SH**

You already slept in the afternoon. It's gonna be a little harder to fall asleep now. – **JW**

I slept for 20 minutes! – **SH**

Be calm. How much does your stomach hurt? – **JW**

Wouldn't it be better if you came in my bedroom and check yourself? – **SH**

Coming… - **JW**

Fancy some tea? – **JW**

JOHN! – **SH**

Sorry. – **JW**

* * *

Sherlock is suffering from withdrawal. – **JW**

I think Mycroft's also. – **GL**

Did he eat the biscuits? I didn't saw him. – **JW**

You know my brother, John. He eats anything that comes in front of him. – **SH**

Not anymore, dear brother. Not anymore. – **MH**

Do I need to remind you of the 'CAKE CASE'? – **SH**

I don't know what you're talking about. – **MH**

We both know you do. 15th September 2013. Do I need to write anything else? – **SH**

You have no evidence that that did in fact happen. – **MH**

Don't I? – **SH**

They are recovering, there's no doubt. – **GL**

Earlier they seemed so out of themselves. – **JW**

Yes. – **GL**

John, don't shout at me, but I'm bored. – **SH**

Me too. – **JW**

Me three. – **GL**

And the withdrawal is getting worse. – **SH**

Me too. – **MH**

I have the best cure for it! – **GL**

You do? – **MH**

Of course he doesn't. – **SH**

I agree with Sherlock. – **JW**

Creatures of little faith! I'm Greg Lestrade! The most amazing person you'll ever meet! – **GL**

I hope you're not laughing at me. – **GL**

Oh, I'm not. – **SH**

Thank God. ^u^' – **GL**

But John is. – **SH**

That bastard! – **GL**

And also Mycroft. – **SH**

How'd you know? – **GL**

CCTV. – **SH**

You kidding right? – **GL**

Of course not! – **SH**

CAMERAS?! IN MY HOUSE?! – **GL**

What about it? – **SH**

'What about it'?! That's ILLEGAL. ILLEGAL. Do you know what does it mean? – **GL**

My brother is the British Government. I never heard such word. - **SH**

I'll press charges! – **GL**

Please, go ahead. – **MH**

Too lazy to do it on your own, Mycroft? – **SH**

You really don't want me to be the one to do it. – **MH**

Why? – **SH**

AS I WAS SAYING, the best cure for withdrawal is... Tum tum tum tum… - **GL**

What is that supposed to mean? – **SH**

You're the one who works with him for ages. – **MH**

And you are the boyfriend, aren't you? – **SH**

Fair. – **MH**

It's called suspense. – **GL**

Just say it already! – **JW**

GAMES! – **GL**

So, no answer? – **GL**

No. – **MH**

Have a good night Greg. - ** JW**

Sherlock? – **GL**

You sure it works? – **SH**

Most times. – **GL**

I'm in. – **SH**

Wow, ok. – **GL**

What game then? – **SH**

I'm gonna invent one. – **GL**

Oh lord… What did I get myself into? – **SH**

Shush. I'm thinking. – **GL**

Thinking? – **SH**

I do think alright? – **GL**

Now I'm laughing. – **SH**

Hilarious. – **GL**

Sarcasm? – **SH**

Oh yeah. – **GL**

Are you still going to play with me? – **SH**

Do you know how childlike you sounded? – **GL**

Are you or not? – **SH**

Not anymore. I'm angry at you. – **GL**

You always are. – **SH**

Not angry then. I wanna explode the head of you. – **GL**

Not the head! – **SH**

The hands? – **GL**

I also need them. Choose another thing. – **SH**

Eyes? – **GL**

Aren't they part of the head, moron? – **SH**

The mouth is definitely going. – **GL**

John won't like it. – **SH**

Oh boy! – **GL**

What now? – **SH**

Is that a confession? – **GL**

Excuse me? – **SH**

YOU TWO ARE DATING! – **GL**

I was referring to the fact that John loves hearing me saying my deductions. – **SH**

No boyfriend/boyfriend thing then? – **GL**

No. – **SH**

Oh man… - **GL**

WHY DO YOU BELIEVE HIM, BUT NOT ME?! – **JW**

Is that a confession? – **GL**

There won't be one so soon, Gregory dear. – **MH**

What a shame. – **GL**

Not really. – **MH**

You could push some strings and force them to do it, ya know… - **GL**

**Oh! Yeah! I posted my first Sherlock video on Youtube today. It's called Sherlock || I'm a Hero, Not a Sociopath. My channel username is also aelitahoppercl.**

**You can find the link on my profile.**

**Please check it out and tell what do you think!  
**

**Ok, I think that's all for today. 'Till next time!**


	15. It's a Nine, John! - Part 1

**Hello everyone! One more chapter! This one was the most difficult to write so far: no inspiration and no idea of how make Sherlock's deductions seem plausible, so there are almost none. I'll try to put more in another chapter. I also wanted to thank to Firelizard Tamer for favorite. **

**Music: He's a Pirate - Hans Zimmer**

**Disclaimer: Let's face it. Sherlock will never be mine... He will always belong to the brilliant mind that is Conan Doyle and to the evil minds, Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss (just kidding. We all love you!)**

**Enjoy!**

**05:32 AM (Sherlock's Bedroom)**

Sherlock opened the eyes, blinking quickly, trying to clear the fog obscuring his eyes. Slowly, with the help of the arms, he sat on the bed, not feeling his feet – probably sleepers. The dark-haired man sighed and grabbed the mobile, the source of the sound that made him wake up. The hatred for the person who texted him was leaving. The sleep could wait. After almost two weeks without a decent case (mostly because John and Greg still thought he was too shaken due to his father's death), he was craving for a new one. And skies answered to his prayers! A murder and possible kidnapping, all together in one single case! It was a seven at least, depending on the crime scene itself. Now, he just had to take John with him… Sherlock looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table. 05:38 AM. Too soon for the doctor to awake. Suddenly forgetting all the politeness his mother taught him when a kid, the detective threw the blankets away and jumped of the bed.

A cough was heard from the end of the bedroom. Sherlock stopped, trying to listen to any other sounds, the only thing he could listen were breaths. Moving slowly, almost undetectable, the young man turned around, still not able to see anyone in the room, but able to observe two small red dots pointing at him. 'Snipers perhaps.' All sort of things crossed his mind. If he tried to run, they would shot him. There was only one thing he could do that would scare the dangerous people and give him a small chance to see who they were.

Sherlock opened his mouth and screamed.

People started running, coming from all the ways possible. They were also screaming, after hearing the big shout. The dots fell to the floor, the sound of glass breaking echoing through the room. The detective's voice was no longer being heard. Finally capable of seeing who was observing him, Sherlock's jaw dropped slightly.

But of course, a disgrace never comes alone.

The door collapsed to the floor, the sound of wood hitting wood enormous. The detective observed a deep dent on the now laying door. A _foot _dent. He then heard the unquestionable sound of a loaded gun. John entered the bedroom, the soldier inside him coming out.

"On the floor now." His voice was so grave it sent shivers down Sherlock's spine. Everyone on the room shut their mouths and bent on their knees, arms signalling surrender. Looking rather surprised by John's 'captain mode' and hesitating, Sherlock also started bending.

Without even looking at the detective, John rolled his eyes. "Not you Sherlock."

"Ok" The young man rose again, standing close to the doctor.

"You may want to put some pyjamas on, don't you think?" When John finally understood who he was aiming at, rage began to boil in his head. Trying not to explode in front of the cameras, the blogger stared at Sherlock, with no clothes but pants. The TV team coughed again. The detective, instead of putting some pyjama bottoms, dressed a dark blue shirt and a black suit. "What are you doing?"  
"As you can see John, I'm getting ready to leave. You should probably get dressed too. Lestrade texted. I'm heading off to the crime scene. I presume you're coming with me?"

"Do you know what time is it?" Not giving a damn about the TV team, John shouted angrily at Sherlock. "It's bloody 05:55 in the morning!"

"So what?" The doctor's flatmate faced him, a puzzled look on his face. God, he really doesn't get it, does he? Thinking deeply about the current situation, John made up his mind. "We're not going."  
"Oh come on Watson! This will b-" The short man send a dangerous look towards Sherlock, who immediately whispered "It will be fun!"

John sighed and left the room. "I'll be ready in ten minutes."

The tall man jumped and held the blogger by the shoulders, both of them going round and around each other. Of course Sherlock would not allow such scene be so cute (specially on TV), so he shoved John away. "Hurry!"

* * *

Sherlock sprang out of the taxi, letting John pay for the ride. The TV team, once recomposed from the fright, set off after the cab, trying to get an image of the detectives in the vehicle. No luck though, cars were always in front of them. Seeing where the taxi was heading to was a fortune.

"Oi! Freak! Where do you think you're going?" Sherlock sighed, a hand going through his hair. The detective lowered his head so he could eye Donovan. The sergeant approached the duo, arms crossed over the chest and the right foot taping impatiently on the pavement.

"Donovan!" Sherlock opened his arms as if he was about to hug her "How long has it been? Two years?"

"The best two years of my life. Just because you came back to life and everyone is now believing you're a hero again, it doesn't mean I'll admit I was wrong saying you're a fraud, because I was not." John stepped on her direction, ready to give a couple of words when Sherlock put a hand on his stomach, making him stop.

"Where's the body?"

"Give me a good reason to tell you." Sally tilted her head slightly, an evil smile plastered on her face. The consultant detective joined her.

"Lestrade called me."

"I said a _good _reason."

Sensing exasperation boiling up inside him, Sherlock got closer to Donovan, his mouth so close to her ear she could feel the hot breath finding its way inside her. "I ensure you; you don't want to mess up with me from now on Sally. I'm no longer the Sherlock Holmes I used to be. If you thought I was able to kill someone before, you have no idea of what I could do now." The dark-haired man stepped back and looked expectantly at Donovan. "Crime scene?"

The woman woke up from the shock and headed the group past the gate. John and most of the TV team whistle at the sight of a mansion completely covered by trees so high they could almost reach the sky.

"Why does Greg have the case if we're outside London?" John asked Sherlock once they reached the main door. The huge garden on the front of the 'house' was covered by journalists, two ambulances and police officers trying to keep strangers away from the mansion and the people wearing the orange shock blanket.

"Bureaucracy." Lestrade appeared from nowhere, making John's heart skip a beat. "Technically, the mansion is right in the middle of the limit between London and Essex, and as the fucking crime scene is at the London part, I've got it." The DI grunted, the gloved hands in his trousers pockets.

"Angry leaving Mycroft's heat, Inspector?" Sherlock turned back at Lestrade, a grin quite visible. "Who are those?" The young man pointed at the group of people with the blankets.

"Maids mostly. Some victim's family also." Sherlock marched to the people, John behind him, telling the TV team to stay back if they wanted to film something. They promptly nodded.

"Family members give a step forwards." The shocked group stared at the brunet with a questioning look. However, no one made question to do what the man said, staying exactly where they were. Sherlock did not understand the reason why none of them moved as he ordered and shot a glare at John.

The doctor gave a smile and got closer to them and only added "Please." Two women and a man stepped ahead. A proud smile was plastered on his face and John walked closer to Greg, whistling. With his mouth partially opened, Sherlock focused on the people in front of him. Both women were on their mid-thirties, white skin like snow and long blonde hair. The only difference between them was the height. The first one was almost as tall as Sherlock. The other one was smaller than John. 'Sisters' The detective stabled the last connections among the women and fixated on the man. He was older than the sisters, age rounding the early fifties, quite visible on the tired eyes. Grey straight hair. Heavy smoker by the degradation of his teeth and the yellowish on his nails. Defensive position. Chin pointing to the ground. 'Angry with something, but what?'

"Names?" Sherlock's eyes went icy, observing the three people reactions carefully.

"_Please_" John repeated once again.

"I'm Victoria Summers and these are my older sister, Naomi, and my cousin Ted. We are Paul's cousins." The tall blonde tilted her head in the direction of the small woman and the short man. Sherlock understood that Paul was the deceased man. "Today Paul and Susan were going on holidays and we came to babysit the twins, but… wh-when we got here… we found P laying on the study's floor and th-the twins and Su were missing." Sherlock eyed John, who immediately said that P and Su were Paul and Susan.

"What time did you found the body?" The doctor pinched the dark-haired man for being so rude, while Sherlock questioned the cousins.

"B-body…" Naomi covered her mouth and left the group behind, her eyes becoming watery. Ted followed her, not before sending some snarky comments at Sherlock. Seeing she was the only one able to answer to the detective, Victoria huffed and crossed her arms tightly.

"I'm not sure, probably around five."

"Time of death?" Sherlock turned at Lestrade. The DI shrugged. "How can you possible not know?" The brunet shouted at Greg, exasperation as clear as water.

"I arrived ten minutes before you."

"Ten minutes is a _long _time!"

"I had more things to do!"

"Oh really? Such as?..."

"Not your business!"

"In case _you _didn't notice, _I _am the one who is actually going to _solve _this case! _I _need to know!"

"NO YOU DON'T!"

"Just tell me!"

"ANDERSON!" Lestrade called loudly Phillip. The forensic man ran out of the mansion, evidence bags on his hands. "Time of death?"

"Well, I can't tell you precisely when…" Anderson heard a sarcastic laugh coming from Sherlock, but when he received a warning look from Greg, he decided the nasty comment could wait "As soon as I get to the lab I'll tell you more precisely. However, I can say right now that it happened between three AM and three forty."

"What about the kids and the mother? Anything yet?"

"Not a clue." Sherlock started laughing again, his deep voice reaching the ears of all the people in the garden. 'Hold on, Phillip. Hold on for a few more minutes.' The forensic was just about turning red.

"Your turn then, Sherlock. Go and do your magic." Lestrade began pushing the detective to the mansion. Once inside, Sherlock observed the study. The division was relatively big, the wall facing the door with two large windows that came from the ceiling to the floor. Long cream curtains covered those windows. The two adjacent walls were covered by shelves filled with books and every single instrument a geologist would need. A huge carpet hid the wood floor, an old oak desk on top of it. The corpse was scrawled next to the desk, in the middle of the room. Sherlock kneeled and watched attentively the victim's face. It was barely recognizable. Red cuts with dried blood covered his face. The mouth was torn, the nose completely turned up. The jaws were also visible from the non-existent cheeks. The only intact part of the face was the stitched eyes.

Outside the mansion, Anderson and Lestrade stand close to the main door. The forensics gave the evidence bags to a young improver while the inspector took care of some of the paperwork.

"Did you tell him about the wild animals?" Greg smirked at the thought of Sherlock seeing the most exotic animals walk freely around the dwelling. "We still didn't catch some of them. Experts keep coming and leaving."

With a fake shocked face, Lestrade slapped his hand against the forehead, exclaiming. "Oh no! I forgot to tell him! Well, it was nice to meet him."

The duo started laughing quietly. "No, I didn't tell him, but as longer as he stays inside the study and doesn't open the door, everything's alright."

"A tiny bit irresponsible, don't you agree?"

"He's the bloody Sherlock Holmes! What could possible happen?"

* * *

Suddenly left behind, John decided to get some coffee and something to eat before Sherlock notice his absence. The doctor unlocked the gate and walked through some beautiful streets, ending on a Starbucks coffee shop. John quickly returned with a Starbucks' Frappuccino coffee for him, a hot chocolate with hazelnuts for the detective and two muffins of strawberry and white chocolate. It cost a lot of money, but it always compensate. When he arrived at the huge garden again, he saw Lestrade and Anderson talking to each other and heard that Sherlock was in the mansion's study. John opened the main door and found himself on the middle of the biggest hall he has ever seen. The blogger cursed himself for not asking for directions and knocked at every door he came across.

"Sherlock? Where are you?" John started climbing the stairs to the first floor. He had now to decide if he should turn to the left, to the right or move right ahead. Sighing, the doctor moved forwards. He kept knocking at the doors while calling out loud for Sherlock. He was just about to turn back when he heard the distinctive sound of boxes falling to the floor. John opened the door. Through the gap, he could see that the room was completely dark. He kept pushing the door until the corridor's light illuminate the room.

"C'mon Sherlock, I hope you're not planning to scare me. You know I'm a soldier and my reflexes are still very good."

John watched as a tall shadow came out behind the set of boxes that fell.

"See, it wasn't that hard, was it Sherl-" John gawk as he saw that the shadow grew smaller and smaller and the one that came out of the darkness was not even a bit like Sherlock.

* * *

Sherlock was ready to tell his deductions out loud to John when he noticed that the smaller man wasn't around. In matter fact, he thought that he didn't hear the doctor's voice for quite a while. Sherlock got up on his feet and got ready to go search for his friend. The detective turned the knob, leaving the study behind. No one from the police or medical team was inside the mansion, which was very strange as usually Sherlock would leave the crime scene hours before all the equipment was packed.

Only after checking the ground floor and the basement, the brunet heard John calling out his name. With a sigh of relief, Sherlock started climbing the stairs, the thumps made by his feet echoing on the walls. He almost reached the top of the stairs when he saw a very frightened John run away from the front corridor, almost knocking Sherlock down. The detective watched as the doctor bolted of something, ignoring him completely. Curiosity taking better of him, Sherlock reached the top of the stairs only to see a Bengal Tiger walking on his direction. The young man gave a step back, stumbling down the stairs. Harkening the loud noise and a moan, John stopped and turned to only see the cause of the all situation sprawled on the floor. He quickly ran to aid his best friend, the tiger not visible yet. John put his arm under Sherlock's left shoulder and tried to get him up. Taking much more time than pretended, the two men strode out of there, until they noticed they were no longer alone. The tiger was coming down the stairs, its white teeth glowing in the dim staircase.

Both men stared at each other, sweat pouring down from their faces and fear visible. Sherlock and John backed away slowly, trying not to infuriate the big beast, when John accidentally stepped on a water bottle, letting a small cry escape. The tiger began to run on their direction. Pain now forgotten, Sherlock grabbed the smaller man's hand, making the doctor follow him to safety. The Bengal tiger was approximating even more, the adrenaline pushing through their veins. Hearing a roar coming from behind, Sherlock and John screamed so loud that everyone outside turned around to face the main door opening with a bang and two shouting men running away.

"I'll text you the details on my way home!" Sherlock called out Lestrade, who had a very scandalized face. "This was much better than I thought, John! It's a nine at least!"

**The idea of bringing wild animals to a case was on my mind since the beginning of the story, but only now I had a chance to put them, though not in the way I wanted. The objective was finishing the case in one chapter. Fail...  
**


	16. To Own or Not to Own - Part 2

**Hello everyone, sorry I'm late, _again_. The school has started and I already have a bunch of homework. Screw you, teachers! I don't know how it is like in your countries, but where I live the marks' quotations from the fifth grade to the ninth grade are from 1 up to 5. Well, last year I had 5 to everything but PE (I had a freaking 4...) and I want to be the best of my year also this year, so... Now that I'm in the Senior High School (I think that's how say it), the quotations change to 1 up to 20. I'll only be happy if I have something between 17 and 20, that's kind of a personal challenge I set when I was on the kindergarten. I'll try to update whenever I can, no promises. More AN in the end. Enjoy, review, comment, or not. I'm not your boss. Yet. **

**Disclaimer: One day, one day, Sherlock will be mine and everyone will envy me.**

**Music: Love Runs Out - OneRepublic**

You think it was a gang, but it wasn't. – **SH**

Oh! Look who it is! Finally decided to give a sign of life? – **GL**

This is purely professional. I'm not texting you to make small talk. – **SH**

I bet the shock messed up with some of your fuses. :-P – **GL**

I wasn't shocked. – **SH**

I know. – **GL**

_You _know? – **SH**

Yeah. I saw your face at the crime scene. You weren't shocked. You were TERRIFIED! – **GL**

I wasn't. – **SH**

Denial. Sherlock, we can only help you if you let us help. – **GL**

I don't need your help. – **SH**

Denial again. Please, let us help you. – **GL**

What do you mean with "us"? – **SH**

Mycroft saw you and John running away from the tiger on live TV. – **GL**

He did?! – **SH**

The remote is damaged. I can't press the replay button anymore. It doesn't come out. – **GL**

That fat bastard! – **SH**

But he's not the only one! – **GL**

Who else? – **SH**

Anderson and Donovan recorded the episode on DVD (they are contacting people to record it on Blu-ray also) and just I'm about to put it on Youtube. - **GL**

All of that because I showed a bit of fear? Dear lord, you people are really childish. – **SH**

At least! We have something against you! We rule your world now! – **GL**

Let me see if I get it right. You own me because you own an embarrassing video of me? – **SH**

Correct. :-D :-D :-D – **GL**

You really don't know when to keep your mouth shut, do you? – **JW**

Someone get used to it, Dr. Watson. – **MH**

What are you talking about? – **GL**

Why don't you check Sherlock's Youtube channel? – **JW**

Ok, give me a minute. – **GL**

* * *

Who rules my world now? – **SH**

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! – **GL**

Your connection with Internet must be pretty bad, for you to take so long. – **JW**

HE DIDN'T! HE DIDN'T! – **GL**

I did! I did! – **SH**

Why are you such an evil person? – **GL**

Not my fault. Blame my parents' chromosomes. – **SH**

You're the one who joined them together! – **GL**

That's scientifically incorrect. – **SH**

I DON'T CARE! You posted the video on Youtube instead of me! – **GL**

And I already have a company interested on publishing the episode all around the globe. – **SH**

Why did you do it? Now everyone will laugh at you. – **JW**

My Dear John, you don't see it, do you? – **SH**

Not really, no. – **JW**

If I didn't do what I did, they would use the video to control me with their stupid rules. Now, as I posted the video online and I'm close to sell it in every country, they have nothing against me. – **SH**

That's amazing! – **JW**

The peace is restored. – **SH**

Not for much longer… - **GL**

As John would say: get over it. – **SH**

I never said that. – **JW**

It sounds too casual for me to say it, so let's say that you say that. – **SH**

But that's a lie! – **JW**

As you would say: get over it. – **SH**

* * *

We have to go to the morgue tomorrow morning. – **SH**

I have work, Sherlock. I told you when we got home. – **JW**

You still have a job? – **SH**

How do you think we pay the rent? – **JW**

I thought that after my return Mrs. Hudson would be so happy that we wouldn't need to pay the rent. – **SH**

That's the worse excuse I've ever heard. – **JW**

Except you didn't. – **SH**

Sorry? – **JW**

You didn't "hear" anything. – **SH**

Don't you start. – **JW**

Ok. – **SH**

Morgue, tomorrow, 9 AM. – **SH**

I'm not going. There are people who need me. – **JW**

Ok. – **SH**

That's it? - **JW**

How am I supposed to answer that? – **SH**

You are the genius here. – **JW**

Come on, John. Just say it already. – **SH**

John? – **SH**

Boy, you're done. – **GL**

Stop disturbing me. You have no interest on what I know about the case so stop it. – **SH**

Big brother on action then! – **GL**

I don't want to. – **MH**

It's part of your duties as the elder son. – **GL**

Ok. I quit. – **MH**

You can't! Only after helping your baby brother I'll let you. – **GL**

Do you need any help, Sherlock? – **MH**

No. – **SH**

My part's done, it seems. Goodnight, Greg. – **MH**

Don't you dare fall asleep! You made it all wrong! Do it again. – **GL**

Fine. Dear brother, how can I help you in this hard moment of your life? – **MH**

There's only one way. – **SH**

God, do you really want _me_ to help _you_? – **MH**

Yes. – **SH**

Urgh, how? – **MH**

TO EXPLAIN ME WHY DON'T YOU AND LESTRADE LEAVE ME ALONE?! – **SH**

We'll have our chat-chat tomorrow. – **MH**

Forget it! We won't have any chat-chat! – **SH**

* * *

Do you see why I don't have this kind of conversation with my brother? – **MH**

Not hard to notice. - **GL**

**I'm thinking of writing one or two new fics, but I'm not sure yet. I barely have time enough to write this one, yet I like the other ideas so much... **

**I'm also thinking of bringing a very special woman in future chapters... Any guess? **


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